Life With June
by buggyswifter
Summary: Fate brings young Dean and Sam into the life of their aunt after tragedy strikes.
1. Chapter 1

June Winchester headed down the hallway with an urgency she had never before experienced. How could this have happened? What was her brother thinking? Scratch that, he hadn't been thinking clearly for about five years now.

June came to an abrupt stop outside Room 415 of the pediatric unit of St. Carmen's Hospital in Ashton, Michigan. There was an unusual group of men gathered outside the door engaged in hushed and intense conversation. June caught the words "we don't know anything about her" and "he never should have used the kids" coming from a couple of the men.

"Excuse me," June needed to get by these men and into room 415. "I'm here to see my nephews." The entire group froze and glared at her in unison. Well, June thought, if looks could kill I'd be six feet under for sure.

"Listen guys, you are in my way. Excuse me." She moved to brush past the group and entered the room. Two young boys were sitting on the hospital bed, both looked dirty and bruised. The youngest looked up and dropped the hand of the other boy as he jumped off the bed and launched himself at his aunt. "June!"

June bent down and lifted the young boy who had latched his arms around her neck and legs around her waist. He dug his head into her neck and sobbed. "Shhhh, baby, it's okay." She cooed as she smoothed soft circles on his back and dropped kisses into his dirty hair.

"June…daddy's dead…Dean won't talk to me… Junie why won't Dean talk to me?" Sam's little five year old body was wracking with sobs so hard that she could hardly make out what he was saying. She kept muttering soothing noises into his ear as she moved slowly to the bed. Walking with the boy attached to her like a turtle shell on backwards was not easy. She managed to make it to the side of the bed and eased herself down to the older boy. "Dean? Dean, honey?" She asked.

Dean's expression was blank. He was staring off to a spot on the wall as if his eyes were drawn there by a powerful magnet. He didn't acknowledge her presence, he said nothing, registered no emotion.

"See…he won't talk to me!" Sammy wailed and clung even more tightly to his aunt.

June could see that Dean was most likely in shock. What she couldn't begin to understand was why her nine year old nephew was perched on the side of the bed, in filthy clothes and looking battered and bloody. It had taken her nearly 6 hours to get to the hospital after the phone call from someone named Jim who claimed to be a friend of her brother's. He had told her that there had been a terrible accident and John was killed, the boys were in the hospital and needed her. What the hell had been going on for the last 6 hours that no one had helped her nephew?

Just then one of the group hovering at the door came forward. June registered that he was wearing a clergyman's collar and had the look of genuine concern. June automatically placed one hand on Dean's shoulder and held fast to Sammy with the other. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself sooner." The man slowly approached and drew a chair forward so he was sitting in front of June. "My name is James Murphy, I'm a pastor at The Church of the River in Blue Earth, Minnesota. I'm the person who spoke with you on the phone." June inclined her head slightly indicating he should continue.

"John Winchester was a good friend of mine. We were involved in the same…organization…for lack of a better word. I'm very sorry but your brother was killed yesterday by a very disturbed individual who had abducted Dean. John died saving his son." June tried to process what she was hearing. She felt the slightest tremor run through Dean at his words and turned her head to see that his gaze had shifted away from the invisible magnet on the wall to his muddy socks instead. Hot, fat tears were dropping from his eyes as he wept soundlessly.

June moved her arm from Dean's shoulder and reached around him, pulling him to her side. Dean tipped into her shoulder, burying his head under her chin his tears dampening her shirt and mixing with those of his little brother. June closed her eyes, causing the dampness that had built up to run down her own face. She held each boy tightly to her and allowed them to shed the tears that she knew needed to be shed. Answers could wait. She needed to help her nephews and right now this was the only thing she new to do, hold them, murmur loving words to them and let them know she was there.

While June's mind was occupied with comforting her nephews she failed to notice the doctor and two hulking orderlies until she heard speaking in the room.

"The older boy, hold him down." The doctor indicated to one of the orderlies who in turn approached the bed.

Dean released his aunt and backed up to the head of the bed, his eyes wild with terror.

"Just who are you and what in the hell are you doing?" June asked while setting Sammy gently on the bed. "Stay with your brother Sammy." Sam immediately scooted up to the head of the bed and put his hand protectively on Dean's shaking shoulder. June turned back to the doctor and pegged him as a weasel. She had no patience left to deal with a little weasel.

"Who are you?" the weasel asked.

"I'm pretty sure I asked you first. But if it will help speed things along I'll introduce myself. I'm June Winchester. John Winchester was my brother. Sam and Dean are my nephews."

The weasel again indicated to the orderly with a nod of his head that he was to restrain Dean.

"Listen bucko," June said advancing on the weasel, "I have just driven like a crazy person for over 6 hours to get here. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm the last adult member of my family left alive on this earth to care for my nephews. I'm pretty sure I have one nerve left and you are bouncing on it like a trampoline. I want to know what is going on, NOW!"

Jim Murphy had moved back to the doorway, joining the other hunters holding their impromptu vigil guarding John Winchester's young sons until they were sure they were going to be safe. They all watched in awe the scene unfolding before them.

"I'm Dr. Timms, the resident on call." Well, the weasel speaks, June thought. "Your nephew has been combative since arriving here and refuses to let anyone near him. He injured one of my nurses earlier, gave her a bloody nose. We need to restrain him, sedate him and then evaluate his injuries."

"Did you just here that snap?" June asked the confused looking doctor. "That was the sound of that last nerve I had left breaking." June advanced on the doctor, poking him in the chest as she spoke. "I don't give a rats rear end if Dean gave some stupid nurse a bloody nose." Poke. "He is a nine year old you who just witnessed his father's murder." Poke. "Six hours! I know for a fact that these children have been here for over t six hours!" Poke. "You are actually telling me that these two injured children, these two traumatized children, haven't received medical attention, IN A HOSPITAL, because you were afraid to approach them after they gave a nurse a bloody nose? WHAT THE HELL KIND OF PLACE IS THIS?" June had built up a full head of steam now.

"Listen here miss." The weasel doctor stammered. "I don't much care for how you are speaking to me."

"Really? I don't think I could care less if I'm hurting your feelings. Listen here, Dr. Timms, I don't want you or your goons anywhere near my nephews. Do you understand? I want a pediatrician in this room in 10 minutes. I want the attending physician you report to in this room in 10 minutes! I will start calling the media, the American Medical Association, the Michigan Board of Medical Ethics, and anyone else I can get on the phone to report the gross negligence these children have received at your hand. Do I make myself clear?" June threw in one final poke for good measure. "I want to know what the hell is going on here and ..NOW!"

The doctor and orderlies scurried past the men in the doorway, if they had tails they would have been firmly tucked between their legs. Jim reached out and put a hand on the shoulder of his friend. "Bobby, I don't think we have to worry about the boys." He said with a smile.

June felt like she had walked into the middle of some bad movie. After more than six hours in a hospital how could an injured child not receive medical attention? She watched the weasel scurry down the hall and glanced over to the group of men hovering near the door. After giving each of the boys a reassuring hug she quickly ventured toward the door and addressed the men, being careful to remain within sight and hearing of her young nephews.

"Okay, what's the story with you guys?" She glanced around the semi circle at the unique gathering. The pastor was still inside the room near a stout and sturdy bearded man wearing a greasy trucker cap and well worn clothes. He watched her carefully, only breaking eye contact to glance at the boys. The others were a variety of scruffy, tired looking men.

"Well, I'm waiting." June could hear the edge in her own voice but really didn't care at this point. At the moment she felt as if her life was the white sand in an hourglass and six hours earlier all the sand had slipped into the bottom of the glass, with the phone call from Pastor Jim the hourglass had been turned upside down and she was in a whole new world.

Pastor Jim stepped forward and placed his hand gently on June's back. "Ms. Winchester, we were helping your brother after Dean was abducted. We represent a unique organization that your brother was a part of. Another good friend of your brother's, Bobby Singer." Jim nodded toward Bobby, who in turn tipped his hat in June's direction . Each of the other men in turn nodded to the young woman, seeming to take direction from Pastor Jim and Bobby Singer.

"Any chance you can tell me why the boys haven't received medical attention?"

"Yeah," Bobby answered, "Dr. Timm is a dick."

June gave a tired smile. "No argument here. I would like to know what happened to my brother though. I especially would also like to know why no one told me my nephew was missing in the first place." June didn't miss the glances exchanged between the men.

"We can explain everything in detail after the boys are taken care of." The last few days were catching up with Pastor Jim and there was an undeniable weariness in his voice. "The abbreviated version is a very bad man named Dick Johnson abducted Dean from the playground at the apartment complex John was living at with the boys. The authorities weren't having much success finding them. John called us, our organization sort of specializes in helping people in situations when the normal authorities can't. We all underestimated the evil Johnson was capable of. We don't really know the details of what happened. We know John found where he was keeping Dean and stormed the cabin without waiting for back-up from us or the authorities. Things went wrong. John was wounded trying to save Dean, Johnson was killed. John died of his injuries before medical attention could arrive." Jim finished and pinched the bridge of his nose, he felt a monster headache coming on.

June looked back into the hospital room at the two boys huddled on the bed. Something was definitely off about this whole thing but her concern for the care of her nephews was more important to her than the bulldozer sized holes in the story she was just told. "How long was Dean with this Johnson guy?"

"Three days." Bobby replied. "Child Protection Services haven't allowed us to talk to Dean, they threatened us with arrest if we tried to speak to him. That's why we are hovering around the room like a bunch of idiots. Pastor Jim here was given a little more leeway being clergy and all. The CPS woman will be back shortly I'm sure."

Just then they were interrupted by a group of men in white coats stomping down the hall in their direction. The leader of the pack was an elderly and tired looking man with a stethoscope draped around his neck and black rimmed glasses sliding down his nose. His name badge indicated he was William Schwebel, M.D.

"I understand there is some sort of disturbance here?" Dr. Schwebel said approaching June.

"Dr. Schwebel," June began "my I ask your position here?"

"I'm head of pediatrics. Dr. Timms said you were causing quite a bit of trouble." Dr. Schwebel was not pleased at having his early breakfast interrupted. He was even less pleased that it was interrupted by Dr. Timms, his least favorite resident.

June was completely fed up with the situation. "Dr. Schwebel are you aware of the situation involving my nephews? I arrive after traveling for over six hours to find my traumatized nephews alone in a room having apparently received no medical attention."

Dr. Schwebel glanced past June to the two young children huddled on the bed. He looked back at Dr. Timms and wondered what he had done to deserve being saddled with such a poor excuse for a pediatrician. However, Dr. Schwebel was also aware that he needed to tread very carefully with the young woman in front of him. It was obvious there was a serious potential for future legal action here.

"Ms. ..?"

"Winchester. My name is June Winchester. I am the sister of John Winchester, the boy's father."

"I see. Would you mind telling me what your concerns are Ms. Winchester?"

"Dr. Timms felt it was necessary to deny my nephews medical attention because Dean, in his distraught condition, gave a nurse a bloody nose. I would appreciate my nephews receiving medical attention. I also want to make it perfectly clear that Dr. Timms is not to be involved in any way." June was trying to be restrained, it was obvious the elderly doctor had no idea what had transpired earlier.

"Ms. Winchester, I will personally see to the medical needs of these children. I assume you would like to be present for the exam?" Dr. Schwebel was himself trying to restrain the increasing anger he was feeling toward Dr. Timms. What the hell had he been thinking?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Written purely for personal entertainment. No profit made.

Bobby Singer leaned against the doorframe of the pediatric ICU room Dean had been moved to. The late afternoon sun dimmed behind the drawn shades of the room. He watched the young boy sleeping in the bed with various monitors and an IV in his arm. No life-threatening injuries according to Dr. Schwebel. However, every effort was being made now to care for the young boy like he was the son of an oil sheik. The best of everything was being offered to them, naturally at no charge, in an effort to cut off any attempts at a negligence suit because of the ridiculous actions of Dr. Timms. Bobby actually let out a soft growl at the mere thought of the inept doctor's name.

Curled into Dean's side his younger brother slept, one arm draped over his brother, careful of his bruised ribs and casted wrist. Next to the bed, on Dean's other side, their aunt dozed in a comfortable looking recliner, her hand gently placed over the young boy's resting on the mattress. Bobby's heart was glad for the look of peace on Dean's bruised features at last. He hoped that the sedatives they had given him were offering him some pleasant dreams.

The last 24 hours had been hell. What was he thinking, the last four days had been hell. He pushed the sting of grief out of his mind for his young protégé. John was a quick study. He had been fearless and incredibly focused where the supernatural was concerned. His downfall had been a human. John lost his focus when his boys were involved. When Bobby arrived after Dean had gone missing the only way to describe John's behavior would be rabid. John had discovered where Johnson was holding Dean and took off to exact revenge on his own, getting himself killed in the process and risking Dean's life in his quest.

Deep in thought Bobby was startled when his shoulder was nudged by the pastor. "What do you think?" the pastor questioned, following his friend's gaze to the slumbering Winchester family. If someone did know the tragedy that had befallen them they would have thought they made the picture of a loving little family.

"My contacts will be reporting within the next day or two, initial Intel seems to be accurate. She is their aunt. John left the kids with her so he must have trusted her." Bobby whispered.

"She does have a certain spark about her." Jim grinned, remembering her giving the obnoxious doctor what he was sure was the dressing down of his career; and an equally impressive tongue lashing to the unfortunate looking woman sent from children's welfare.

"That she does." Bobby was still reserving judgment on John's little sister but she had gained points with him when not only Sammy but Dean as well responded to her. Since the boys had arrived at the hospital Dean had only been capable of expressing terror and fear. He seemed to recognize no one other than Sammy and he would not speak. Seeing Dean curl into his aunt and weep went a long way in Bobby's book. He knew Dean didn't let his guard down for just anyone. Dean still hadn't spoken to anyone but it was a comfort that he recognized his aunt.

Jim too was willing to see how things progressed with the young woman. She was the best opportunity for the two newly orphaned boys to remain together and with some sort of family, some sort of ties to their past.

Jim had been given June Winchester's name and phone number by John himself shortly after they met. John only said that she was his sister, and she should know if something were to happen to him. June was several years younger than John, 23 to his 37. In one evening of drunken rambling, the only time John ever shared any personal information, he shared that his parents had an "oops baby" and named her June because that was the month of the 'oops'. The 5' 6" brunette was probably around 130 lbs., not waif thin but certainly not pudgy. As Charlie, one of the younger hunters helping them over the last few days said "she has curves in all the right places." Accompanying his comment by an appreciative waggling of his bushy eyebrows. Jim blushed at the thought, he was supposed to be immune to such foolishness. June recently graduated from college with a degree in elementary education and was accepted for a second grade teaching position in Chicago, where she was currently living in a studio apartment located over a detached garage in a residential neighborhood. John's parents and his older brother had all passed away over the last several years. June was the now the only adult survivor of the Winchester family.

"How are the funeral plans going?" Jim finally asked.

Bobby smirked at the reference. "I believe services will be after midnight. I best go check on the details." With that he turned to leave. "Need a ride?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Suppose so," Jim replied while settling in to the remaining comfortable looking recliner. He was temporarily glad to be in the pediatric wing, accommodations were so much more family friendly here. He then silently berated himself for thinking such a thing. "You know where to find me." With that he closed his eyes from some much needed relief.

------

Dean Winchester was floating. Floating in a sea of yellow flowers and sunshine. Floating in a peaceful place that reminded him of his mother's love. Shortly before life changed he remembered his mother painting their kitchen yellow, saying it was her favorite color. He remembered her telling him how yellow was a happy color and if Daddy wasn't such a grump she would have painted his room yellow too. Daddy laughed and said manly men did not grow up in yellow nurseries. After life changed, because that was always how he remembered mommy's death and the fire – it was when life changed - he would close his eyes and remember his mother in a yellow meadow, wearing a yellow spotted sundress and surrounded by yellow flowers. Sunshine and happiness would sparkle in her eyes and dance across her face. Even as the years passed and Dean could no longer remember the details of her face he remembered yellow meant mommy. Yellow meant things that made mommy happy. Yellow was where he went when he was scared and alone. It was his place, and his place alone.

There were darker colors trying to creep in on his yellow happiness. Dark colors in the shape of a bad man who did bad things to him. Dark colors that reminded him of the blood on his daddy's face and chest. Smelly colors that reminded him of the bad room he had been in for what seemed like forever. No, he didn't want to deal with the dark colors right now. He pulled yellow shades down out of yellow window frames suspended magically in his yellow meadow. He put yellow stickers on any cracks of dark color that tried to get through. He smiled at his inventiveness. The bad feelings stood no chance against yellow. They were banished from the bright and happy kingdom.

So here he was, surrounded by sunflowers, daffodils, daisies, and yellow flowers that only existed in his imagination. There were happy faces, Tweety birds and tennis balls. There was the softest yellow comforter to lie on and plush yellow pillows to sink his head into. He was safe in his sea of yellow. If Sammy was here with him he would stay forever in yellow. But he missed his little brother. He was worried that no one was taking care of Sammy as well as he could, because that was his job after all. That was what his Daddy had always told him. He would have to find Sammy soon, but for now he would stay in yellow. Auntie June was here and he knew she would keep Sammy safe. Daddy had brought them to her so she must be safe. Auntie June wasn't quite yellow worthy but she was pretty close. His last thought while he floated off in the sea of yellow was maybe if he stayed here long enough he would see his mommy again.

---------

Sammy slept soundly curled into his brother's side. His dreams came and went in rapid succession. First he would be dreaming a happy dream about going to the carnival with Daddy and Dean. Daddy would buy them ice cream and play games with them on the midway. Then bad men dressed like clowns would take Dean away and Daddy would leave to chase after the. Next Auntie Junie would make Christmas cookies for them and read stories in her tiny apartment. After that Daddy would take them away and Sammy would cry. Dean would make him feel better though, giving him treats and letting him watch Power Rangers while Daddy was gone.

Daddy was gone. Sammy knew that his Daddy was gone and this time he would not be coming back. He had been late before. Being gone forever was like being very late he supposed. Sometimes when Daddy was late Dean would worry because they were alone and the food and money had run out. If they were lucky Daddy would leave them with Auntie Junie or Uncle Bobby or maybe Pastor Jim. Other times he left them on their own. Those were scary times but Dean always promised Daddy would be back because Daddy was a hero. Sammy wondered in his dream of Daddy was still hero. Sammy knew Daddy wasn't coming back because Dean didn't promise this time. Dean hadn't said anything because he hadn't been there. A bad man had taken Dean and now he wouldn't talk to Sammy and tell him everything was going to be okay. Sammy whimpered in his sleep while wondering if anything was ever going to be okay again. He missed Daddy and he missed his big brother.

------

June slept fitfully in the recliner. She was aware of her hand on Dean's, not wanting to break contact, feeling the comforting warmth of his skin. The events of the last 12 hours played over and over in her head on an endless loop of horror. The phone call, the endless drive, the unusual crew of men watching over the boys, the horrid weasel of a doctor, the equally horrid weasel from children's welfare, all more than she could handle.

Dean's exam had revealed bruises and cuts in places nine-year-old boys should never have bruises or cuts in addition to those that were plainly visible. After an initial exam and IV insertion Dean had been sedated for the remaining exam and treatment. June would forever remember the look of pleading and terror in his haunted green eyes as he gripped her hand in his, slowly giving in to the effects of the sedative. She promised she wouldn't leave his side and would be there when he woke. Dean's raw and bleeding wrists and ankles were wrapped and treated. A few of the deeper knife wounds were stitched. X-rays revealed cracked ribs and a fractured wrist. His left cheekbone was cracked, the eye was swollen and his lips were split and swollen. If you looked carefully finger-shaped bruises could be seen around his neck. His left eardrum was ruptured. Tests were taken for sexually transmitted diseases even though Dr. Schwebel was reasonably certain there was no intercourse but digital penetration could not be ruled out. The thought of what her brave and strong little nephew had been subjected to sickened her.

Sammy's exam had been uneventful. He was fine. June was relieved to discover that his dirty and bloody appearance was transfer from holding on to his traumatized brother. Other than being tired and hungry, Sammy was fine and could not be persuaded to leave Dean's side.

Shortly after Dean was settled in his room the woman from children's welfare showed up again. She was a tank of a woman and her expression was one of pinched disgust. June thought she looked like she forever smelled stinky diapers. In her dream June had added a few warts and other less than flattering features to her appearance. Their conversation had been brief. June made it perfectly clear that she was family and would be seeking permanent custody of the boys, no ifs, ands or buts about it. The social worker made it clear she didn't think June was old enough to handle such responsibility. June in turn shared she thought the social worker was one step below a toad on the food chain and unless she had some legal authority to remove the children from her custody then she should just "back off and go find someone else to grace with her repulsive presence". June knew as a family member of legal age with no criminal background (she never even had a traffic ticket), there was no legal reason to keep her from being the guardian of her nephews.

June found herself hoping in her dream that her brother had the opportunity to make that sick bastard suffer. Her brother…..poor Johnny. What happened to the happy guy who brought her to the hospital to meet her first nephew when she was 14? The only time she ever saw him happier was when he brought her to meet Sammy four years later. June would always remember the looks shared between John and Mary and hoped one day to find that kind of happiness. She never understood what happened after Mary died. Six weeks after the fire John disappeared with the boys. June was heartbroken. John had been her only family after their mother died of cancer when she was 17. Their father followed barely a year later, June always thought he died of a broken heart. She never quite forgave John for abandoning her.

It had been nearly two years later that John showed up on her doorstep with a six-year-old Dean and two-year-old Sam. He dropped the kids and barely said ten words to her before leaving with an "I'll be back in a few days." Eleven days later he showed up looking like he had been in a bar fight and took off without hardly a thank you. June's anger at being taken advantage of and having her life turned upside down was offset by her happiness at having her nephews back in her life. Little Sammy was just a bundle of smiles and mischief. Dean was another story, it took a long time for her to earn his trust.

She didn't question John's activities or whereabouts. She knew by the way he looked at her that if she pushed him the boys would be taken back out of her life forever. Now she thought perhaps she had been a fool to not have been more involved in his mysterious business. Could she have saved Dean and Sammy from this tragic turn of events?

What was she going to do now? Even in her slumber her brow was creased with worry as thoughts of the challenges of supporting two young children flew through her mind. Where would they live? She had just accepted a position at an inner city school in Chicago thinking that she could take care of herself and the challenge of teaching children from some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the country. But that wasn't the place for her to raise two small boys. What about money? She had worked a variety of jobs to put herself through college and still owed a small fortune in student loans. What about a funeral for John? She doubted he had any insurance. She remembered the disaster that was her own parent's funerals. The cost was outrageous and ate up what little estate there had been after medical bills and their other debt. School supplies and therapy bills. Dentists and doctors. Landlords and bill collectors. They were chasing her through her dreams. Funny how they all sort of resembled the battle-axe from children's welfare.

June was not enjoying a peaceful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Borrowing characters and writing purely for entertainment. No profit made.

Thanks to those who took the time to read and review, I really appreciate the input and I'm pretty sure I need all the help and encouragement I can get!!

Chapter Three

Bobby returned to Dean's room at about 11:00 p.m., careful to avoid hospital staff. At his first glance around the room he thought everyone was sleeping. Jim was softly snoring. These last few days had taken a lot out of the aging minister. June was breathing evenly but the hunter sensed her level of alertness change as he approached the hospital bed. Still, she showed no reaction so he continued.

Staring up at him from the hospital pillows were two deep green eyes. Cautiously Bobby gave the injured boy a reassuring smile. Dean blinked heavily and turned away, the expression on his face more sorrowful than Bobby thought he had ever seen before. As gently as possible the hunter brushed a calloused hand through Dean's brown hair and softly brushed his cheek. Dean nervously looked back and locked his gaze with his honorary uncle.

"I haven't had a chance to talk to you since all this ruckus started around here," he whispered. "There are a couple things I want you to remember Dean. This whole thing is the fault of a very bad man. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. I don't know what you are thinking right now but I want you to remember that." He gently stroked Dean's uninjured cheek with the back of his curled fingers while he spoke. Bobby knew how the young boy tended to take the weight of the world on his shoulders, always feeling responsible for everything and everyone around him. He guessed the boy was throwing himself into a pit of blame and guilt. Bobby knew he had to do whatever he could to keep Dean from thinking his father's death, or being taken by Johnson, were his fault.

"Your daddy loved you somethin' fierce. He never, not for one second, blamed you or thought you had done anything to cause this mess. We will all miss your daddy, he was a good man. But knowing how things were going to turn out…well, he would have done the same thing a million times over to save you. He loved you and he loved Sammy. Right now you just need to remember that. The rest will sort itself out."

Dean shut his tearing eyes. His head turned into the soft touch of the old hunter. He wanted to keep pretending nothing happened. He wished it was his dad stroking his face and speaking softly to him after a bad dream. But Bobby wasn't his dad and this wasn't a dream. He missed his dad. He was trying to find a memory that would stick in his mind and not turn into a replay of the last time he saw his dad.

John Winchester had died in the cellar of Dick Johnson's cabin. Somehow he had pieced together the clues to Dean's location ahead of the others. He stormed the cabin and showed no mercy to Johnson, he emptying his Glock into the evil man's body. He charged the cellar door and ripped it open in his haste to reach his son. He wasn't quick enough to avoid the double barrel shotgun rigged at the bottom of the stairs and buckshot ripped into him. It was a miracle that he stayed alive long enough to make his way to his son and pick the shackle locks at Dean's hands and feet. John collapsed against the stone foundation after freeing his son.

The unbelievable joy Dean had felt at knowing his Dad was there to save him turned to absolute terror when he heard the gunshot and saw the amount of blood his Dad was losing. Dean crawled to his father, sobbing and begging him not to leave. "I'm sorry Dean…..I'm so sorry I failed you……love you…..love Sammy…..so much…." Those were was the last thing Dean remembered until hearing his aunt's voice in the hospital.

Bobby reached down and brushed a gentle kiss against Dean's forehead. He smiled and reached down to tuck blankets firmly around the sleeping lump of Sammy. He brushed a gentle kiss on the smaller child's cheek and stood to leave. "I need to borrow Pastor Jim for a little bit Dean. We'll be back in the morning to see how you are doing." Dean gave only a mere hint of a nod, still with his eyes closed.

June had sensed immediately when someone entered the room. Thinking it was the night nurse checking Dean's vital signs she remained still. Upon realizing it was Mr. Singer she decided to play possum and see what he was up to. She strained to hear the hushed whispers being spoken to her nephew by the scraggly looking man. Her heart swelled at the tenderness and affection he showed. She concentrated on keeping her breathing even, not wanting the others in the room to know she was awake and ruin the moment. June peaked carefully watching Bobby interact with both boys before he turned to leave. She couldn't be certain but she thought the older man tossed a wink in her direction. He couldn't have known she was awake, could he?

_____

Silence filled the car as the two hunters drove in the dark. Eventually they came to an unmarked gravel road lined heavily with trees on either side. Bobby's Chevelle bouncing along down the grass covered drive. They arrived at their destination, a small clearing seemingly in the middle of nowhere. In the center of the clearing was a wooden funeral pyre. Beneath the pyre was kindling and mounds of dry firewood and charcoal. On the top was what both men knew to be John Winchester's body, wrapped securely in a blessed white sheet.

Several of the same hunters who had held vigil outside Dean's hospital room now milled around the funeral pyre holding their impromptu wake. Two of them had liberated John's body during the transfer from the hospital morgue to the funeral home. Others had scouted this location and began preparing the funeral pyre.

Bobby got out of his car and leaned heavily on the door. Lord but he was tired. "Are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I ever am to say goodbye to a friend." Jim replied, donning his vestments. While not an official church burial he felt the show of respect was warranted both to John and to God. He took his well worn bible and stepped out of the vehicle.

After a short series of prayers Father Jim went about blessing the body, sprinkling it with holy water and oils. The group around him stood, hats in hand, heads bowed and reverent. When the final "amen" was mumbled by the group Bobby stepped forward and lit the pyre. The men remained in silence, silhouetted by the fire, each lost in their own thoughts. Some remembering their fellow hunter and some anxious to get back on the hunt. A couple others feeling an ache deep in their hearts, praying that their own families would be spared the fate of two orphaned little boys. It was a somber crew who witnessed the flames consume the last physical evidence of John Winchester's presence on this earth.

_______

June had gone to her nephew shortly after the two men left the room. She knew Dean was awake. What she didn't know was how best to deal with the situation she found herself in. Her limited knowledge of child psychology hardly covered the type of trauma and horror Dean had experienced. She knew Sammy too had issues to deal with. She decided her best course of action to begin with was to simply love them. Each boy filled a half of her heart. They were her only family left on this earth and by God that is what they were going to be, a family. June decided to follow Bobby's advice herself, 'the rest will sort itself out.'

Leaning forward she lifted Dean's small hand to her cheek. "Hey sweet pea. Feel like talking?"

Dean was staring at his sleeping brother and shook his head. He lifted his arm and looked at the dark blue cast on his wrist, then back at his aunt. "When had that happened?" his eyes silently said.

"Cool cast, huh?" Oh yeah, that was pretty lame June thought. "Sorry kiddo. Your wrist was broken. They casted that and took some x-rays while you were sleeping. Don't worry," she noticed the sudden look of fear in his eyes, "I was with you the entire time."

Dean looked back down to sleeping Sammy. "Sammy was with your friends Jim and Bobby, they took him to get cleaned up and something to eat." Dean relaxed and rested his chin on his brother's head.

"You have a couple cracked ribs and a few of your deeper cuts took a couple stitches. Nothing too serious. You have a cracked cheekbone," she said while tracing the bruise on his cheek with a feather light touch. "It will heal on its own, but you do have a pretty amazing black eye."

"The doctors said all that would heal in time." A tear ran silently down her cheek as she thought of the suffering such a wonderful little boy had been made to endure. "Time we have, right?"

Dean still wouldn't meet June's eyes. As gently as possible June pulled his chin in her direction. "Sweetheart please look at me." Slowly his green eyes bright with tears met hers. "I love you Dean. I love Sammy. I will do everything I can to be the best aunt I can and make a good life for us. Things might not be easy, but with the three of us working together, I'm pretty sure we can get through anything."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Borrowing characters and writing purely for entertainment. I own nothing.

Chapter Four

Bobby was packing up his gear shortly before checkout time in the dingy motel. He had finally gotten a few hours of sleep after giving his friend the hunter's sendoff he deserved. Cleaning up any evidence of the ceremony hadn't taken long. Anyone who happened upon the scene would, at the most, think maybe a group of kids had a party and bonfire. He got back to his room around 4:00 a.m., showered and fell into an exhausted slumber. He felt like a new man in the morning.

His plan was to stop by the hospital and say goodbye to his young nephews, for that is truly how he thought of the Winchester boys. Even though he had blood relatives, none of them had a hold on his heart and soul like Dean and Sam. He had vowed to Jim Murphy that if the mysterious Aunt June wasn't someone worthy of caring for those two boys he would take them himself. They would disappear and start a new life somewhere. He had seen too many families torn apart by the supernatural, too many tender children traumatized beyond any hope of living a normal life. Dean's trauma hadn't been supernatural but the young boy knew what was out there. It would take a strong and special person to help him heal.

Whether or not June Winchester was that special person remained to be seen. Bobby was encouraged by the initial signs though. She hadn't once asked questions along the lines of "what would be in it for her" if she took the boys. At the implication made by the child welfare worker that June was too young and financially insecure to care for Sam and Dean, June had gone ballistic. Bobby grinned at the memory, he had enjoyed that show.

Jim had discussed with him at length how best to help the small family. Bobby's contacts had found out everything about June Winchester there was to know, and it wasn't much. She was a straight arrow. Never any trouble with the law. Graduated with honors and a degree in elementary education. There had been a variety of jobs, sometimes several at once, to put herself through school. No serious relationships. She had a little over a thousand dollars in her savings account and about four hundred in her checking. The only black mark Bobby could hold against her was the fact that she drove an older model Toyota. That didn't mean he was going to be happy letting her just take off with his nephews. He and Jim had come up with a plan to keep them nearby so they could continue to watch over John Winchester's sons.

Bobby knew that June's family life had not been a happy one. The oldest Winchester, her brother Matthew, had been killed in Vietnam. John had left the family after eloping with Mary. When June was 12 her mother had been diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease as it was commonly known, and started a slow and painful demise. The young girl had been her mother's caretaker while the disease had ravaged her body, right up until death. June's father lost his auto shop business and turned to drink to deal with the stress of his dying wife. He died himself within the year, leaving an 18 year old daughter with nothing but memories of a broken family and a mountain of debt. John hadn't been able to help; he was dealing with his own family tragedy.

Bobby knew that people in June's position either followed one path or the other, no middle road. They either became people who took the lemons of their life and made lemonade; or they took the lemons of their life and sucked on them until their life was as unpleasant as the puckered up lemon face they made. Funny, but the he thought of the child welfare worker again. Yep, that woman was a lemon sucker alright. June, well she certainly seemed the lemonade type. And he definitely knew two little boys who needed a little lemonade in their life.

Jim Murphy was packing his own belongings in the next room, getting ready to return to Blue Earth. He had been gone nearly a week and he needed to get back to his parish before 80-year-old Agnes Kuebelbeck started another petition to have him replaced.

This was going to be an interesting morning. Bobby's part of the plan was to cut and run. In all fairness his friend did have his own business to get back to in Sioux Falls. Bobby had made it clear step one of the plan was Jim's territory, trying to convince a headstrong young woman to bring her two nephews to Blue Earth, Minnesota, and start their new life there. Bobby felt it was best for Jim to handle this alone so the young woman didn't feel ganged up on or sense a conspiracy. He had to admit that made sense, but Jim couldn't help but think that for all of Bobby's bravado, he could be a real chicken when it came to dealing with female adversity. Jim smirked to himself and thought that Agnes Kuebelbeck would have Bobby sniveling like an idiot if he had to deal with her on a regular basis.

Pastor Jim was known in the hunting community for being a negotiator, a rational thinker, the calm port in the storm. Bobby was the fountain of knowledge of all things supernatural and expert researcher of any and all topics. They were two of the most respected hunters in the Midwest. It was why John Winchester had sought each of them out to learn from.

Jim remembered the day John had knocked on his door, having been sent to him by a more experienced hunter. John had after nearly gotten himself killed on a simple salt and burn.

If there was a naked woman on his doorstep Jim could not have been more surprised when he opened his door. There John was, bloody and bruised, with a toddler nursing a bottle of juice on his hip and a fair-haired preschooler peaking around his legs.

Jim shook his head to clear the memories. Now was not the time to dwell in the past. Now was the time to look to the future.

June sat rocking slowly in the recliner, deep in thought. Dean had started whimpering in his sleep several hours earlier, thrashing and crying into his pillow. June had taken Sammy onto her lap while the night nurse gave Dean a sedative to help him rest more comfortably. Sammy curled up on her lap and fell back to sleep.

So here she sat, rocking and thinking. She had been awake most of the night, worrying about the boys, making to-do lists in her head, counting money she didn't have, trying to decide what her next step should be. Her head was spinning. She had to find a place to stay with the boys, that was number one on the list, no getting around it. The problem was where?

She hadn't shared with Mr. Singer or Pastor Murphy that she was in the process of moving when she got Jim's phone call about her brother. She was leaving her little furnished apartment and moving to an apartment complex closer to her new teaching job. Her few belongings were actually in the trunk of her car and she was doing a final walk-through when she got the call.

The future had been so clear to her a couple days ago. Now living in Chicago had lost all appeal. The adventure of teaching at an inner city school took on different meaning when she realized she would have to enroll her own nephews in that school. Before all this she had no doubt Dean could have held his own, in any school. But not knowing how quickly he was going to recover, and if he was going to have any lasting problems, she couldn't risk it. Then there was Sammy. He would be starting kindergarten. Sammy didn't have the defenses built up yet that Dean had, he still was a little boy with a soft heart, always protected by his big brother. Nope, Chicago was out.

There was the possibility of going back to Lawrence. She still knew people there, had a few friends. People remembered her family. She might be able to get work substitute teaching until something permanent came along. It was a possibility.

What was she thinking? She hated Lawrence. Her only happy memories there were of John and Mary with the kids. Dean had enough to worry about without being hauled back to the town where his mother died and his father's train slid off the tracks a little. A fresh start was best for all of them. Lawrence was out.

Staying in Michigan was definitely out. She couldn't wait to get Sam and Dean away from this horrible place.

June's thoughts were interrupted when Sammy started to squirm in her lap. "Hey buddy, you going to wake up soon?"

Two small fists rubbed sleepy eyes, making June smile at the little boy trying to wake up. "Morning Sammy."

Giving a gigantic yawn he managed something that sounded like "Mmmning."

"Well I can see you aren't a ball of fire this morning. Let's go get you cleaned up a little." After a bathroom break and some semblance of a morning routine Sammy had perked up quite a bit. After leaving the bathroom Sammy made a beeline for Dean's bed, he was anxious to have his brother wake up and maybe finally talk to him.

"Whoa there kiddo." June grabbed him mid-leap and swung him away from the bed. "I think we should let Dean get some more rest, he had kind of a rough night."

Concerned Sammy gave his brother careful inspection, "Why?"

"Why did he have a rough night, or why do I think we should let him sleep?"

"The rough night."

"Well you've seen all Dean's owies, right?" Sammy nodded, sadly looking at his sleeping brother. "He had a hard time staying asleep because he was hurting and having bad dreams, so the nurses gave him medicine to make him sleepy. The more sleep and rest he gets, the quicker he will heal." Hopefully both outside wounds and inside wounds June thought to herself.

"If he sleeps real late will he talk to me when he wakes up?"

June picked Sammy up with a grunt; she wouldn't be doing that much longer, and moved to the far side of the room. "I can't tell you if Dean is going to talk today or not."

That really wasn't the answer Sammy was hoping to hear. "I think Dean is mad at me," he finally said, burying his head into her shoulder.

"Why on earth would you think Dean was mad at you, bud?" This was certainly unexpected.

"Because I let the bad man get him. Dean always takes care of me and keeps the baddies away. I let him down." June thought her heart would crumble at the sadness in his voice. She stayed silent for a few moments, carefully weighing what she was going to say. Not for the first time she wondered just what her brother had been involved with that his sons were so concerned about 'baddies' and protecting each other.

"I know Dean isn't mad at you Sammy. He loves you very much, maybe even more than you love him. But you know what?" Two huge hazel eyes looked up at her from under too long shaggy bangs, "What?"

"You know how he always looks out for you first, right? He takes care of you."

"Yeah."

"Well, right now he is letting you take care of him."

"Huh?"

"Right now he is letting you look out for him. He is scared, just like you are, and he is sad, just like you are. But besides being scared and sad, he has all those owies. You know Dean doesn't like anyone to baby him when he has an owie."

"No, Dean is always brave."

"Right, he is. But right now he has all those owies and he is scared and sad. He misses your daddy, just like you do. That makes it really hard to be brave. So, because he knows what an awesome little brother you are, and that you can be brave too, he is letting you take care of him for a little while. It is your turn to help make sure Dean is okay while he gets better. He loves you so much he knows he doesn't even have to ask, he knows he can count on you to help take care of him."

Sam must have thought that was a good explanation because he squirmed out of June's arms and went right over to his brother. He perched on the edge of the bed like a sentry keeping guard. The extremely serious look on his face could have been comical in other circumstances.

June walked to Dean's bed and softly brushed a kiss on the sleeping child's forehead and whispered in his good ear; "Rest easy now Dean, Sammy is on guard."

Bobby and Jim stood outside the room watching and listening. "What do you think Jim," Bobby whispered, "can we keep her?"

"She's not a puppy, Bobby."

"No, she's better than a puppy. My guess is she is already housebroken." With a full fledged grin Bobby entered the hospital room, feeling more optimistic about the future of his nephews than he had since this whole mess started.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Borrowing characters and writing purely for entertainment. I own nothing.

Chapter Five

Bobby and Jim stepped into the hospital room and were startled to be stopped in their tracks by a five-year old. "Shhhhh!" He whispered, "Dean needs his rest!"

Bobby did his best to keep the chuckle that was threatening to erupt under control. "Yes sir, Mr. Winchester, sir!" He quietly replied in mock seriousness. Bobby held up the fast food bags he brought filled with breakfast sandwiches. "Can I interest you in something to keep your strength up while you are keeping watch?"

Sammy's tummy was growling but he didn't want to leave Dean's side. "Well, maybe if we are very, very quiet," he finally decided.

June smiled and moved Dean's bedside table up to Sammy so he could set his breakfast down along with the cartons of orange juice and milk. She looked up to find another bag placed on the table. "Thought you might be a little hungry too." Bobby nodded toward the bag.

It had been nearly two days since June had eaten anything other than a gas station sandwich and some stale peanut M&M's from the vending machine. "That was very thoughtful of you, Mr. Singer. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled that food. Thank you." Bobby smiled while she all but inhaled the sandwiches and juice. She was glancing back and forth between Dean and Sam the entire time, also keeping a wary eye on him and Jim.

Jim had settled into the recliner nearest Dean and took in the young boy's appearance. The bruises had blossomed into an amazing tapestry of color over nearly every inch of his exposed skin. He shuddered to think what the parts of him looked like that were covered with the blanket. He decided it was fortunate that the child was in an apparent deep, drug induced sleep. He didn't want to discuss things in front of the boys.

He decided he needed to get the conversation started. "Miss Winchester?"

"Yes, Pastor Murphy?"

"Would we be able to have a conversation regarding some details that need to be taken care of?" Jim gave a glance toward Sammy, "perhaps while the boys are otherwise occupied?"

June had figured there would be some sort of uncomfortable conversation about 'details' and was just about to reply when she was interrupted by Mr. Singer.

"Before you get involved in your discussion," he quietly cleared his throat, "If you don't mind, I need to get on the road, been gone too long already." He bent down over Dean and kissed his cheek. June just made out his whispered "I love you boy, we'll talk soon." Then he scooped Sammy up in a giant bear hug. "I love you too, squirt. I'm awful proud of how you are taking care of your brother, your daddy would be proud too." Sammy snuggled in the embrace.

"We'll still get to see you, won't we, Uncle Bobby?"

"Kid, wild horses couldn't keep me away." He didn't trust his voice to say more at that moment. He sat Sammy back on the bed to resume his 'keeping watch' duties and gave his hair a goodbye ruffle.

"Miss Winchester…"

"Please call me June, Mr. Singer."

"Well then, June…I wish we could have met under happier circumstances." He took an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. "This is my contact information, address, phone number and such. I own a garage and salvage yard and I've had John's car towed there for storage until you decide what you would like to do with it."

June's face fell. "The Impala! I completely forgot about John's car!"

"Don't worry," Bobby couldn't yet tell if she was relieved or angry at him, "it will be ready whenever you decide what you want to do with it. I won't touch a thing." Except for stashing the amazing amount of weaponry and contraband in the trunk, he thought.

June was completely disgusted with herself for forgetting the Impala. It was John's prized possession, the only home the boys had known since the death of their mother. Her mind was racing with the details of what Mr. Singer said. She thought he had said earlier he was from Sioux Falls. Why hadn't he talked to her about this before shipping it three states away?

She finally decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and accept his offer. It made sense that he didn't burden her with the details of the car. She had her own car and couldn't drive two at once. Mr. Singer seemed to be a trustworthy man, he certainly loved Sam and Dean. He may have even had conversations with John about caring for the car in case something were to happen to him.

"Mr. Singer, I can't thank you enough for storing my brother's car. I would be happy to reimburse you for your trouble once things get settled."

Reimburse me with what, Bobby thought, not that it mattered. "I wouldn't hear of it, ma'am. I'm happy to help and I'll wait to hear from you." With that he tipped his battered trucker hat in her direction and turned to leave.

June placed her hand on his arm, stopping him before he could leave the room. She stepped in front of him and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Mr. Singer. Thank you for helping me with the car and for being so kind to the boys."

A light blush was creeping up his neckline. "No thanks needed. I'd be honored if you let me stay in touch with the boys though."

"Definitely, Mr. Singer, I wouldn't have it any other way."

With that Bobby nodded in Jim's direction made a hasty exit.

Jim's plans for discussing things with June were interrupted several more times after Bobby left. First by nursing staff checking on their patient, and then by Dr. Schwebel making rounds. Dean woke during his exam and immediately sought out June with his fear filled eyes. Sammy had a grip on his uninjured hand and watched everyone who came near his brother with a critical eye.

After Dr. Schwebel's exam he told June that they would remove Dean's catheter and have him try some solid food. If things went well he was hoping to discharge his young patient. June couldn't help but think that they would be glad to get rid of the little Winchester family. Well, not nearly as glad as I will be to see this place in my rear view mirror, June thought to herself. She had seen the miserable Dr. Timms at the nurses' station earlier, the jerk of a doctor all but ran in the other direction when he realized she was watching him.

Dean still refused to speak and panicked if Sam or June weren't in his line of vision. When Dean was again settled in his bed, after using the bathroom on his own and taking a very shaky walk down the hall and back, the orthopedic surgeon came in to discuss with June care for Dean's fractured wrist and cracked ribs. Practically meeting the orthopedic surgeon at the door was the child psychologist who wanted to discuss Dean's abduction and the fact that he was refusing to speak. The boy's room seemed to have a revolving door of medical professionals.

Throughout all the activity Jim worked on his next sermon and made notes to himself for church business that needed to be attended to immediately upon his return. He helped keep Sammy occupied so June could focus her attention on Dean; always aware that Dean's attention was focused on his little brother so he needed to be nearby. Jim watched June carefully as she reassured Dean though everything. Her voice was always calm. She would casually lay her hand on his arm, or his head, gently smiling at him and making sure that he was included in the conversations about his condition.

Finally after getting the boy to eat a few bites of lunch Dean started to doze and Sammy again took up his position of keeping guard over his brother. Jim had given Sam a colorful pop-up book to occupy him for a time. Sammy took the book, which was filled with pictures and stories of animals native to the mid-west, and settled in next to Dean. Sammy pretended to read the captions and began telling Dean elaborate stories to go with each picture. Soon Dean floated off to sleep listening to his chattering little brother.

Jim decided that if he didn't take this opportunity he wasn't going to be getting on the road before dark, he really needed to get back to his parish, the next day was Sunday. June dropped into the chair near Jim and caught his eye. "Thanks for sticking around to help with Sammy, it really made things easier."

"No problem at all, Miss Winchester."

"Again with the Miss Winchester stuff… please call me June."

"Alright, June. I think we were going to start a discussion a while ago. Perhaps we can get to that now?"

"Yes, what did you need to talk to me about?"

Jim paused; the importance of this conversation required all of his tact and finesse learned as a minister. "First, there is the matter of your brother's personal possessions." He began, taking off his glasses and beginning to clean them, as was his usual habit when he began a counseling session, it was his 'I'm relaxed and comfortable so you should be relaxed and comfortable technique'.

"I'm sorry, Pastor Murphy, but I think first is the matter of my brother. His body seems to have disappeared. The hospital referred me to a local funeral home, which referred me to another funeral home that referred me back to the hospital. It seems he has wandered off." June suspected the kind Pastor Murphy was the unofficial leader of the, what he had called the 'organization' he belonged to along with her brother. It had been obvious when the others had been around that they deferred to him. Mr. Singer definitely was part of the leadership also, but even he seemed to let the Pastor take the lead. "You wouldn't happen to know where he got himself too now, would you?" She leaned back in her chair and gave the pastor her sweetest innocent smile.

Jim Murphy weighed his options while he casually finished cleaning his glasses. This was an interesting turn of events. He hadn't expected June to be weepy or needy, but he also didn't expect her to go on the immediate offensive. Perhaps he it wouldn't be as easy to manipulate her decision as the thought.

"John had made his wishes very clear to me. I followed his instructions upon his death. He didn't want a traditional funeral; he didn't want to financially burden you with those issues. He was cremated and his ashes will be buried at his wife's gravestone, to spend eternity with whatever remains of Mary were buried after her death. No fanfare, no ceremony. Those were his wishes." Jim sat back in his chair, placing his fingertips together and touching the index fingers to his lips and waited.

June mentally counted to ten, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. In the last few days her neat and orderly life and spun out of control, she felt like she was riding a tornado. She leaned back in her chair and willed her mind to sort all the spinning thoughts into neat little piles. She decided details of the past were not important. As curious as she was about the mysterious organization, that needed to wait. The immediate details of her future, and the future of her nephews, were what she needed to focus on. She didn't have time to freak out because her brother didn't have a wake or funeral. How would she have managed that anyway? Her gut told her to trust Pastor Murphy and Bobby Singer. If they managed details like John's car and burial, so be it. However, she realized there was more going on here than met the eye. She had no information on this 'organization' and wasn't naïve enough to think she had any sort of control over this situation. The kind eyed pastor was in charge.

Opening her eyes she looked directly at Pastor Murphy. "Do you have any intention of trying to

take Dean and Sam away from me?"

Jim met her green-eyed gaze directly. "Right now… no."

"But that could change?"

"Honestly, I doubt it." Jim answered honestly. He then let a different serious tone into his voice. "But their well being, their future, are very important to me. I can't imagine loving them more if they were my own sons. Three days ago I knew nothing of you other than your name. Now having met you and seeing how the boys care about you, and seeing how you care about the boys, I think you are the best person to raise them. Being with family is the best place for them to be." Jim again relaxed into his chair. This was not how he anticipated this conversation playing out but he was enjoying the direct approach.

After glancing over at the boys and seeing they were both now sleeping, heads resting against each other, she finally asked, "Was this the conversation you wanted to have when you arrived here today?"

"Honestly, no." Jim smiled then, thinking how far off his original plan things had gone. "I was going to try and trick you into deciding to come to Blue Earth, I wanted you to think it was your idea. However, you have a knack for getting right to the heart of the matter. I don't think it would be in my best interest to try and trick you."

"Why would you think I would come to Blue Earth with Dean and Sammy." Even as she asked the question she was intrigued by the idea.

"Watching you here today it is pretty obvious you are going to need some help with Dean. The boy doesn't want you out of his sight. That would make it pretty hard to get to a job, earn a living. It would make sense to keep any trauma at a minimum right now, don't you agree?"

June couldn't deny the pastor had voiced the exact worries that she had formed on her own. Everything that had been done to care for Dean today required her full attention. How would she take him to a strange place and find someone to care for him while she worked? That didn't mean she wanted to completely turn herself over to this man she had met only three days ago. Her life, and the lives of her nephews, might be a mess right now but she didn't like anyone telling her what to do and decided to say as much.

"Seems you have a plan for us that you weren't going to let me in on until I fell under your spell."

"I didn't want you to feel like you were being forced into this decision, and unfortunately that is where this conversation feels like it is going." Jim was starting to worry that he was losing the upper hand, he continued being honest and hoped for the best. "Bobby and I did some checking up on you. We know you were moving and at this moment have all your worldly possessions in your car. I'm thinking you are second guessing your plans now that you have two young boys to look after." He looked to June for some sort of reaction but she held his gaze with no show of emotion on her face. Darn, he would have to remember never to pay poker against her.

"I live in a small town. I'm a respected citizen and the boys know me. They are comfortable there. I would like to invite you to come and stay with me until you know what direction to take. There is no hidden agenda. It is what I think would be best for the boys but it is your decision to make."

"And if I say no?"

"Then I'll do my best to keep watch over the boys wherever you settle. Perhaps you have other options to consider. I only want to help make this transition easier for Dean and Sammy. It would be nice for them to have a permanent home instead of living out of a car and being fostered out. On top of everything else that alone will be a big adjustment for them."

June tried to gauge if the man before her had any sort of hidden agenda. His face wasn't giving anything away. She concentrated on his eyes, his soft blue eyes seemed to hold no malice, only concern.

"How long do I have to make a decision?" She finally asked.

"There is no time limit on my offer, June. There is an envelope in the duffle bag I brought. The money from John's wallet is there, about $700 or so. Directions to Blue Earth, my phone number and address are there too. There are a few sets of clean clothes for the boys, some of their possessions. Some of their other belongings, and a few more of John's things, are back in Minnesota. They are yours whenever you come for them." Jim rose and started to collect his things. He went to the boys and fondly kissed them each on the head and whispered something that June couldn't make out. He then turned to face June, who still wore an expression of stern contemplation.

"June, it is time for me to leave. It has been a pleasure to meet you. Please think about my offer and let me know what you decide."

As Jim Murphy turned to leave, feeling fairly defeated in his grand plan, he heard June ask. "So, how long does it take to get to Blue Earth?"


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Borrowing characters and writing purely for entertainment. I own nothing.

Chapter Six

Dean couldn't wait to get out of the hospital. He couldn't wait to get away from this town. He was tired of people coming in his room and looking at him with pity and then talking to his aunt in sad whispers. He was tired of people asking him questions about what happened and how he felt. He felt like he had a giant whole in his chest, a giant hole that threatened to swallow him when he remembered what happened.

He had panicked earlier that morning when he woke to the feeling of warm breath on his neck. It was only Sammy who had fallen asleep next to him in the hospital bed. But his first thought was that it was Dick Johnson, that Dean was pinned to the floor of the cabin cellar, with Johnson kneeling on his back, breathing on his neck and saying awful things to him, things that should never be said to a nine-year-old. Things that scared him more than he thought any words could. He had jerked awake and tried to push his little brother off the bed. If the rail hadn't been up he would have succeeded.

Dean was so ashamed that he had nearly hurt his little brother. All he wanted to do was go somewhere and scream at the top of his lungs, he wanted to scream and scream and scream until all the fear and pain was gone. Until he felt safe again. Until he could close his eyes and rest without awful memories filling his head. He tried to find his special place, his happy thoughts of yellow, but it was becoming harder and harder to do.

He really did want to talk to his little brother and tell him everything was going to be okay. He wanted to talk to his aunt and tell her he was happy she was there. But Dean was afraid if he opened his mouth things would come out that he couldn't stop. He wasn't ready to talk about what happened. He didn't want to risk saying anything to Sammy before he was ready. The pain medication and sedatives the doctors had been giving him left him feeling fuzzy in the head and more than a little nauseous. He decided it would be best to keep quiet. Quiet was the one thing he could control. If he talked that would mean more questions. He wasn't ready for questions.

Dean watched his aunt as she gathered up the variety of items they had accumulated in his hospital room over the last few days. Sam had stayed constantly by his side. Dean didn't know about Sammy's conversation with Aunt June. All Dean knew was that Sammy tried to do everything he could possibly want. He questioned everyone who came near. Earlier in the morning he had made a nurse show her i.d. because her nametag was backwards. Dean was more than a little proud of how Sammy was trying to take care of him.

June had told them both to use the bathroom and be ready for a long car ride because as soon as he was discharged they were 'going to get the hell out of Dodge', she said. Dean was really hoping he was done with whatever medication they had been giving him because he couldn't stand the squishy feeling in his head; colors were blurry and seemed to swirl together. If this was what it was like to take drugs he wondered why anyone would want to feel this way, it was awful. The long car ride made him nervous when he was feeling so queasy. Dean had thought they were going back to Aunt June's tiny apartment by Chicago. He had spent a lot of time in big cities with his dad, staying in rundown hotels and questionable parts of towns. They were less likely to be noticed that way, his dad had always said. They 'had to keep the social workers off their asses', which was another favorite saying of his dad's.

Dean didn't really like the big cities. Yeah, it was easier to blend in and go unnoticed. It was also easier to encounter scary people. People who didn't care why two little boys were often alone. People who wanted to do bad things to them. People like Dick Johnson. He had known how to do all kinds of bad things to little boys. Dean shook his head to get the image of his tormentor from his mind. The bad man was dead. His dad had saved him. He was safe. Dean knew he needed to snap out of this pit he had fallen into, his little brother needed him. Maybe once he was out of the hospital, without all the prying eyes, he would be able to go back to being the big brother.

Dean realized Sammy was talking to him but he couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. The kid sure knew how to chatter. He knew his little brother talked more when he was scared and nervous and the kid had been talking constantly while they were in the hospital. Dean nodded when he thought he should and tried to grin a little, which seemed to satisfy Sammy for now.

Finally June had their things together. One of the nurses came in with paperwork and a wheelchair for Dean to ride in. Dean gave the chair a look of disgust and then looked at his aunt. "Yeah, I know you don't think you need the wheelchair Dean. But the sooner you plop your keester in the chair, the sooner we can hit the road." She signed form after form and stuffed her copies in the duffle bag.

Dean thought he was going to hop right off his hospital bed and sit in the chair but the nurse had other ideas. "Hold on young man," she said taking Dean's hand "we need to get this IV out before you go." The nurse, Clara according to her now prominently displayed name tag, took an antiseptic wipe and cleaned the area, expertly removed the IV catheter from his vein and taped a band-aid over the area. Even if Dean had been speaking he wouldn't have had time to argue. "What do you think, Sam? Was I gentle enough with your big brother?" Clara casually asked. "I suppose," Sammy answered, "but next time you should have asked me first." Dean gave his little brother his first genuine grin in days.

Clara smiled at the precocious five year old, "Well, let's all hope there isn't a next time."

"Amen to that," was June's reply. Dean could see the softness in her eyes when she looked at him. June hadn't asked him, not one time, what happened or why he wasn't talking. Dean was glad she was there and wasn't pushing. Sometimes he wondered if she really was his dad's sister or if she was his aunt like Bobby and Pastor Jim were his "uncles". June sure was nothing like his dad. Where John Winchester was all business and anger, June Winchester was patience and kindness. But there were times when Dean knew for certain that June was a Winchester.

He grinned a little remembering the day before when the child psychologist had been sent to talk to him. She was a middle aged woman with a thick build and her attitude was all business. She asked question after question and when Dean ignored her she basically told Aunt June that he was going to need extensive therapy and counseling. Aunt June answered nicely "Dean knows Sammy and I love him and will give him everything he needs to get better."

When the counselor kept talking about things like PTSD and trauma induced personality disorders June interrupted her saying, "Do you have any records or information on what Dean was like before his abduction?" Naturally the counselor didn't. June filled her in sweetly, "Well, Dean witnessed his mother's death in a fire when he was four. He didn't speak for months, he merely existed." The counselor looked shocked as June continued, "During that time he cared for his six month old little brother because for as hard as Dean took his mother's death, my brother took it harder. Dean eventually came out of his shell, he processed what happened and dealt with it in his own way. He was never a big talker, but he is a big thinker. Dean happens to be the strongest, bravest and most responsible child I have ever met. I'm proud he is my nephew. His silence is telling me he needs more time to deal with what happened."

Dean knew the exact moment when the woman pissed June off, it was those stupid tsk tsk noises she made while making notes in her file. "Feel free to make your recommendations for his medical record. But since you have shared nothing with me that any ordinary person with an ounce of common sense couldn't figure out I think we are finished here. Please leave." With that June showed the counselor the door. Dean had looked at his aunt with gratitude; he knew she was on his side.

Finally June picked up their gear, grabbed Sammy's hand, looked at Dean and said "Let's blow this popsicle stand." Dean and Sammy looked at each other and smiled. Every time they left a motel with their dad he always said the same thing, "Let's blow this popsicle stand". Yep, June Winchester was definitely their aunt.

June glanced in her rear view mirror at the two boys dozing in the back seat. Sammy's head was on his brother's shoulder. Dean sat with his head leaning against the car window. Both boys surrounded by miscellaneous stuff that had been packed in her car. June knew Dean's ribs were still tender and could tell by the pinched look on his face that his pain medication was wearing off. He skin was pale, making the bruising seem that much brighter.

They were somewhere in Wisconsin, not quite at the halfway point she thought they would stop at for the evening. She was traveling a paved country highway, making good time considering she wasn't on any sort of schedule. She glanced back again at Dean and notice the light sheen of sweat on his face, he had a definite green tint to his terribly pale skin. "Dean?" The boy's eyes snapped open. "You need me to pull over?" He responded by getting a little greener. Oh yeah, he needs me to pull over. June pulled off the road, threw the car in park and was out and around the car before Dean could get his seatbelt off. She yanked open the door to help Dean and was met with a splatter of vomit on her jeans and shoes.

Dean looked at his aunt with a horrified expression. Sammy had woke when the car slammed to a stop and looked around his still seat-belted brother. He too looked at his aunt and said "Ewwwww, that's really gross."

June stood in the ditch of a country road, wet from the knees down with sick. Looking back at Dean she simply said "you done?" Dean leaned back on the seat, closed his eyes and gave a slight shrug. He had lost the green tinge. "Feel better?" June ventured. He shook his head from side to side. "Yeah, me neither." June leaned back against the car and tipped her head to the sun, the sky was a brilliant blue in the late afternoon sun. She took a deep breath and thought, not the first time, that God must have a wicked sense of humor. Sending up a prayer she silently asked 'if you're not going to help us out, maybe you could torment someone else for a while?'

After a few more seconds she bent to look in her back seat. Dean was still leaning back against the seat with his eyes closed. Sammy was holding his casted arm and gently stroking the fingers sticking out of the end of the cast. He was speaking softly in a reassuring tone to his brother.

"Sammy, are you okay?"

"Yep, I was just telling Dean it was okay and he didn't even get any puke in the car."

"You're right; he didn't get any in the car." She looked back up to the sky and decided to change her earlier prayer. Maybe God was looking out for her after all, driving another six hours in a vomit smelling car on a hot summer day would be way worse than changing her jeans and shoes.

June leaned back in the car and felt Dean's face. His eyes snapped open again. He felt a little warm but his color had returned somewhat. She grabbed a bottle of tepid water that was on the seat and handed it to the boy. "Rinse and spit, get some of that nasty taste out of your mouth." Dean took the open bottle and managed to clean out some of the awful taste in his mouth. June handed him a roll of mint Lifesaver from her purse and smiled. "Dean, maybe next time you can give me a little warning?" He shrugged and took a mint, handing the roll to his brother. June could tell he was fighting back tears, the kid looked miserable.

Sammy had crawled out of the car and stretched his legs while June went around and popped the trunk. "Auntie June, what are you going to do about your jeans and shoes?"

"I think it would be best if I changed them." June found the bag she was looking for and pulled out a pair of flip flops and some jean shorts.

"Good. Because you smell real bad."

"Thanks Sammy, I hadn't noticed." June toed off her tennis shoes and peeled off her socks. Next, after carefully checking that no one was approaching on the road, she told the boys to close their eyes and it was off with the jeans and on with the shorts in 7 seconds flat. She took what was left of the flat water and splashed it over her hands and feet and dried her skin in the wall grass on the side of the road.

"You gonna put that stuff back in the car." Sammy asked.

"Those are my favorite jeans." She held them up and realized that they weren't too damaged, her shoes had taken the worst of it by far. "However, the shoes…." She picked them both up holding on to the heel of the shoe, the only dry place. "…..I never really liked these shoes." June flung them into the tall grass on the side of the road. She tightly rolled the jeans and tucked them in the trunk.

After getting Sammy buckled in again June climbed back in the driver's seat. "How about we find a place to stop for the day?" Two very enthusiastic nods were her reply from the backseat.

"You have got to be kidding," June blurted out at the older woman. She just couldn't believe her ears. Each motel she stopped at had told her the same thing, that there was a baseball tournament in town and there were no rooms available. The last town they stopped in was having a motorcycle rally and Dean nearly hyperventilated when June suggested stopping there for the night. That's just great, June thought. It's another hour to the next town of any size that might have a motel. It had been nearly three hours since she suggested stopping for the night. She stopped at the Four Pines Resort out of desperation, it seemed a little out of her price range, definitely a more high end resort. She wondered what kind of baseball tournament booked rooms here.

The resort clerk could see out the front window into June's Toyota, which was parked as close to the door as possible. She also noticed June seeming to keep a constant eye on the boys in the car and wondered if the tired looking young woman before her was running from an abusive boyfriend or husband. One of the boys sure looked like someone had beaten the tar out of him. It wouldn't be the first time a woman like that had sought refuge for the night in Phoebe's resort. Over the years the elderly resort keeper had called in more than one emergency when an angry man began pounding on the door, and the occupant, of one of her rooms. She was pretty sure she had seen it all in her years in the business. The state of the two young boys in this car – obviously filled with everything this little family owned – broke her heart.

As June said thank you and turned to leave Phoebe stopped her. "Listen, you look like you could use a break. My bridal suite is available, the only room left. It has a king bed and a pull out loveseat. I usually only let it out to our honeymoon couples but I'll let you have it for the regular room rate if you are interested."

June couldn't believe her good fortune. "That would be great! We'll take it."

"That boy of yours seems a little worse for wear," Phoebe ventured while filling out the paperwork.

June decided she better head off the do-gooder, and the best way to do it was with the truth – sort of.

"They aren't my boys, they are my nephews. Dean was in an accident with his father, my brother. My brother was killed and Dean just got out of the hospital this morning. We are heading to Minnesota to stay with family. I didn't think it would be this difficult to find a room. We are all a little worse for wear. I do apologize if I seemed rude before."

The pieces of Phoebe's heart that hadn't broke at the sight of the two dejected little boys completely shattered at June's story. "I suppose you are taking them to their mother then?"

June paused, "No…their mother died five years ago in a house fire. We are heading to stay with their…ah, uncle."

"Oh my goodness, those poor dears!" Phoebe couldn't help her outburst. "I'm so sorry."

"That's okay," June replied. "Is there somewhere nearby that delivers? I'm sure the boys are starved and my nephew isn't really up to tackling a restaurant yet."

"We have the best restaurant in Four Pines right here. They deliver free of charge to all the rooms. The menu and information is right next to the phone in every room. You just go ahead and order whatever you need, on the house. It's the least I can do for being a nosy old woman."

June wasn't sure what to say, she certainly wasn't used to that sort of kindness. "Thank you, I do appreciate it, but you really don't have to do that." June glanced back out at the boys and gave them a wave, she had been gone longer than she intended and was certain Dean was getting nervous.

"Don't be ridiculous, I own the place, have for years. I'll just write it off as a business donation, Miss…." Phoebe glanced down at the registration so she could address the young woman by name, "….Winchester?"

"Yes, June Winchester." June answered, noticing a marked change in the woman's demeanor.

"You wouldn't be related to John Winchester would you? Dark hair, mid-30's, drove a black impala?" Phoebe asked quietly, her hands fluttered at her neckline, holding an antique gold locket.

"Well yes, that was John, he was my brother."

"Was?" The color had completely drained from Phoebe's face.

"Yes, was. John was killed in an accident last week, my nephews are his sons." June was ready to grab her purse and take off, she wasn't sure where this conversation was headed and it was definitely creeping her out.

Phoebe couldn't stop the tears that trailed down her face. "Oh my goodness…….oh good Lord…….oh my goodness," was all she could manage over and over again. June was slowly backing to the door with her purse, ready to make a break for it.

Finally Phoebe managed to regain some composure and wiped her face. She picked up June's registration papers and tore them in half. "You will be staying as my guests for as long as you need to. The will be no charge for the room, no charge for the restaurant."

"Okay…." June was officially freaked out and had her hand on the doorknob to make her getaway.

"Please, I know you don't know me and probably think I'm some crazy old woman."

"Oh no," June said in the voice she used specifically on crazy women.

"Your brother, John Winchester, was the bravest man I have ever met. I would be most honored if you would let me repay some of his kindness by doing this small favor to help you."

June didn't know what to do. This woman seemed sincere. But honestly, what the hell was she talking about?

"Ma'am, I'm really not sure what to say. I'm not sure what my brother was into, but it might be best if we just moved on."

"Please, my name is Phoebe Banks. Your brother saved my life. Because of him people around here can breathe a little easier at night. He was a hero. I'm heartbroken at your loss and could never forgive myself if you don't let me help you."

"If you don't mind me asking, Ms. Banks, how exactly did my brother save your life?"

The last thing June remembered hearing before she passed out was a sweet old woman saying; "Well, by killing my husband, of course."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing characters for some fun.

Chapter Seven

Sammy and Dean were getting more than a little restless in the car. Dean watched his aunt through the window while she talked to the older woman. Why did that lady look so familiar?

Sammy had unbuckled and was bouncing around the inside of the car chattering away. "I wonder if they have a swimming pool? Oh, silly me! You can't go swimming yet with your cast. I'm really hungry, maybe they have hangaburgers here. Do you think they have a bathroom, I really gotta go?"

Dean grinned at his little brother's use of language. When Sammy learned to talk his favorite meal was hangaburgers and tapatopitches instead of hamburgers and potato chips. Dean needed to use the restroom himself and hoped his aunt would hurry up. Girls, he thought, they talk too much. Just then June turned and gave a little wave with a thumbs up.

"Yea!" Sammy shouted, "we got a room! Let's start getting our stuff." Sammy started to scramble over his brother in his effort to get out of the car. Dean kept watching June, she seemed to be acting a little strange, backing toward the door and glancing back at them with a kind of panicked look on her face. The older lady looked like she started to cry and then ripped up some paper.

Sammy noticed his brother staring into the office and turned to look himself. He tilted his head to the side like he could hear what they were saying. Just then both boys saw June drop from sight. "Auntie June!!" Sammy cried as he jumped from the car.

"Sammy, no!" Dean yelled while he fumbled one handed with his seatbelt. Sam froze in his tracks, "Dean, you talked!" The little boy ran back and grabbed his brother in a giant hug. He popped Dean's belt and grabbed his big brother's hand. "Come on, we have to help Auntie June!"

Dean found himself being dragged into the resort office before he had a chance to register what was happening.

Phoebe watched the pretty young woman crumple to the floor. "Oh my goodness!" She mentally kicked herself for blurting out such a statement about her husband. It was fairly obvious this girl wasn't kidding when she said she didn't know what her brother was into. She knelt next to June and was patting her hand as the door flew open. There stood two boys, one bruised and battered, the other flushed, and both seemingly scared to death.

Sammy flew over to his aunt's side and grabbed her hand away from the older woman, "Auntie June! Wake up, please, please wake up Auntie June." Sammy patted her hand furiously with a wary eye on Phoebe.

"Don't worry boys; I'm not going to hurt you. My how you both have grown!"

"Mrs. Banks?" Came Dean's hoarse whisper as he slowly walked in and knelt next to his brother, placing his arm protectively around Sammy's shoulder.

"Oh, you remember me! How wonderful!" Phoebe exclaimed. "I'm afraid I startled your aunt though."

Dean looked at his aunt unconscious on the floor.

"I don't really know what happened, I just mentioned how your father helped me and she passed out."

That is so not good, Dean thought. "June doesn't really know what kind of work dad did, besides being a mechanic." Dean said pointedly indicating toward Sammy with his eyes.

Phoebe took Dean's statement and behavior to mean that perhaps the youngest Winchester didn't quite know all the family secrets either. She couldn't believe she had been so foolish.

Sammy was watching his big brother and Phoebe with wide eyes. "Dean, do we know her?" he finally whispered.

"Yeah Sammy," Dean thought back and realized that Sammy would have only been three years old when they had been here last, most likely he wouldn't remember Mrs. Banks. Then a thought struck him. "Remember the pie lady, Sammy?"

Sammy scrunched up his face like he was thinking harder than he had in his life. "The pie lady….yeah, the pie lady! Is she the pie lady Dean?"

Phoebe smiled, "That's right, you called me the pie lady."

In the midst of their conversation June began to come around. Her dream of stampeding horses coming straight for her ahead of a massive cloud of dust was suddenly interrupted by the realization that she was laying on the floor and someone was slapping her hand. Next she heard Dean's voice and thought she must be dreaming again. Cautiously she opened her eyes and saw Sammy and Dean kneeling next to her on one side and Mrs. Banks on the other. An alarm went off in her head and she sat up with a start.

"Stay away from my nephews you nut." June shouted, pulling the boys to her as she made for the door. Dean stopped and turned to his aunt, "It's okay Aunt June, she isn't a nut."

June was dumbfounded, "When did you decide to talk?"

Dean just gave a small shrug, "Don't know, just sort of happened."

"Please, let me explain," Phoebe interrupted, "I didn't mean to say what I did." She really didn't know how she was going to backtrack and get herself out of this mess. Obviously this girl thought she was a psycho, most likely someone who hired her brother to murder an unwanted husband. Phoebe's mind raced to try and find a plausible explanation for what had happened.

"Listen, I really think we need to just leave. You said," June stopped and looked at Dean and Sam, she didn't want to repeat what Mrs. Banks had said about their father. "You said…what you said…and you actually seemed happy about it."

"Can't we stay, Auntie June? We stayed here with Daddy for a while. I remember the pie lady, she was nice."

"Yeah," Dean quietly added, "Dad worked here for a few weeks a couple summers ago. It's safe here….I feel safe here."

While June was trying to decide how to handle the situation the office door opened and a large group of teenage boys in matching purple baseball uniforms emblazoned with 'Elmdale Dairymen' came in followed by a variety of parents, other kids and luggage. June pulled Dean and Sam off to the side planning to slip out the door in the confusion. Phoebe reached out and pressed a key into June's hand. "Please give me a chance to explain. I'll come to the room and explain everything when I'm finished here. If you still want to leave then I won't stop you."

June's head was pounding. She looked into the pleading faces of the boys before her and decided to trust her instincts. The woman might be crazy but she didn't seem dangerous. Dean would never put Sammy in danger, and Dean wanted to stay. He had even said so, that alone was a miracle.

"Fine, I'll hear you out. But not in the room, we will wait in the car," she didn't add "so I can make a quick getaway", at least not out loud. "We'll decide then if we are staying or not."

Twenty minutes later Phoebe took a deep breath after finishing her explanation to the young family. Phoebe searched the face of the woman who was in the driver's seat, literally, and prayed that she believe the whopper of a tale she had just spun. It was a practiced story for it was the same version of events that the authorities believed and that the families involved had found comfort in.

June grasped the steering wheel in a white knuckle death grip. She had a killer headache – thanks to her little hitting the floor episode, her stomach was so empty it was knocking on her backbone, and she really had to pee. On top of that was the faint vomit odor wafting up from her feet.

"Okay, let me see if I follow this." June looked out at Phoebe, who was standing at the driver's side door, her hands locked together and grasped under her bosom. June thought she looked like an opera singer ready to belt out a tune. "A couple years ago there were some unexplained deaths in the area. Around the same time your loving husband of 40 years began acting odd and violent, incidentally in cycles that corresponded with the deaths. You suspected he was somehow involved and discussed the same with your minister. Your minister put you in touch with my brother who was some sort of 'investigator'. My brother came here with the boys pretending to be a handyman. He followed your husband one night after he again started acting odd and found a camper being ripped apart by your husband with his bare hands. You attempted to interfere and your husband attacked you. My brother shot your unarmed 60 year old husband in self defense and to save your life. After autopsy they found your husband had some sort of rare brain tumor and that was the cause of his bizarre and violent behavior. That's your story?"

And I'm sticking to it, Phoebe thought. "Yes. John didn't want to be involved, what with the boys being here and all." She smiled at Dean, she could tell he was satisfied with the story. "I told the authorities that I had killed my husband in self defense. Poor, dear Walter. He wasn't conscious of his actions, he had no memory of his episodes. The doctors said he would have continued to get worse and eventually die an agonizing death. So you see, John really did save my life, and the lives of countless others that dear, sick Walter may have hurt."

Phoebe grasped her locket nervously, inside was a picture of dear Walter. She really did love her sweet husband. She ran the resort, he ran the restaurant. They had 41 wonderful years together. Her story held more truth than deceit. John Winchester had been the only one to believe her when she told him of waking up to her husband snarling and growling, jumping out of their bedroom window as if he was a wild animal. Phoebe had followed as best she could and eventually found Walter over the bodies of a young couple who had been sparking near the lake. The thing that Walter became had ripped them apart with his claws and teeth, eating parts of them like an animal.

Phoebe hadn't known what to do. How could she tell the authorities that her husband had turned into a monster and ate the two young lovers? The sheriff's department was looking for a cougar or rabid bear. The morning after the murders Walter came to breakfast and said he wasn't hungry. Other than that he had no memory of "sleepwalking" as Phoebe had asked him.

After confiding in her pastor, who made it clear he thought Phoebe was having some sort of medical event herself, he promised to make a few calls. About a week later John Winchester and his young two sons showed up on her doorstep. John told her he believed her story and the cycles of the murders, especially the eaten hearts, indicated what could possibly be a werewolf. Had her husband been bitten by anything recently? Phoebe remembered there was a drifter who they had helped out a few months earlier, a lost looking young man who became violent one night and attacked Walter, biting him on the back of his shoulder. Walter didn't press charges and the next day the young man had disappeared. It was the month after Walter was bit that the murders started.

After Walter had been killed, Phoebe had helped John eliminate any traces that he had been there. The toughest job had been finding the silver bullet that passed through her husband's body. John packed up and was driving out of the resort as the police cars were driving in. In the days that followed there had been a few other mysterious visits by 'professionals' who made sure that all facets of the story seemed plausible, that no questions were asked that could not be answered. Phoebe was left a widow but she knew that there were forces beyond her control that had taken her husband from her, forces that took Walter away from her long before John Winchester came to their lives.

Sammy tapped June on the shoulder, "Auntie June, I really gotta pee, my back teeth are floating." He was definitely doing the dance of a little boy on the verge of having an accident. Dean snickered at his brother's misery.

June decided to end Sammy's suffering – and her own – and most likely Dean's too. "I still think there is something wonky about all this, but we will stay. Only for the night." The boys each grinned at her from the backseat. "Now, where is the nearest restroom?"

After everyone took care of business Phoebe gave the Winchesters the keys to honeymoon suite. By then more baseball families, this time it was the Ripley Rockets, were checking in and she needed to attend to her business, she promised to stop by in the morning to check on everyone. June pulled her old Toyota around to the back of the resort and found their suite. She and Sammy loaded up their belongings and Dean unlocked the door. He flipped the switch and they all stared in shock at the room before them.

The walls were pale lavender, the king sized bed had a pale pink satin spread with cream colored satin sheets and a delicate cream colored lace canopy. In the corner a sitting area with a love seat, table and two chairs. June peaked around the corner into the bathroom and her suspicions were confirmed, heart shaped tub and fluffy pink towels.

"You boys are so lucky," June finally said. Both Dean and Sammy looked up at her, their mouths still hanging open at the most frilly and girlie room they had ever seen in their lives. "You are so lucky….that I don't have a camera because I would so love to get a picture of the two of you in that giant pink bed. Better yet, in the heart shaped bathtub! I would be able to blackmail you into old age!" The boys laughed, Dean because he was genuinely happy he aunt didn't have a camera and Sammy because he would have loved to get his picture taken in the giant pink bed.

"Maybe we could get a disposable camera at the gift shop!" Sammy asked, only to be smacked firmly in the arm by his brother. "What was that for?" Dean only rolled his eyes and dragged his duffel over to the bed. June noticed that since the few sentences in the resort office Dean had resorted back to silence. She decided not to comment.

The next half hour was spent settling in. June got the boys into the tub and took a quick inventory of their duffel bags. Their clothes were in pitiful shape, there definitely would need to be a major shopping trip in their future. June had just peaked in the bathroom and reminded the boys to be careful of Dean's cast, when there was a knock at the door. After checking the peep hole she opened the door to a small maid with a giant load of extra towels and pillows. Shortly after came another knock revealing a small cluster of kitchen workers with trays of food. There were crackers and soup, hamburgers and fries, chicken and mashed potatoes, a plate of fresh fruit and veggies, and a plate of meat and cheese. Last but not least a giant chocolate cream pie and a pitcher of ice cold milk. June's stomach was rumbling. The room smelled absolutely wonderful.

June slipped in the bathroom to help the boys wash their hair and get out of the awkward bathtub. "Are we going to eat soon." Sammy asked while she was towel drying his hair. Dean already had his pj's and June could hear his stomach growling. She really hoped that with all the food Dean would find something to his liking. He had eaten barely enough to keep a bird alive over the last few days. "We might be able to find something to eat," June smiled.

Several hours later the leftovers had been cleared away. June had her turn in the ridiculous heart shaped tub and no longer smelled like rancid hospital food. Sammy and Dean were curled up and sleeping in the giant pink bed. June leaned against the wall and smiled softly at her nephews. Dean had eaten enough to satisfy June. After taking his medication June barely managed to get him under the covers before he was sound asleep. Sammy curled up next to his brother and whispered "Night Dean, luv you." Dean laid his arm over his brother, "Luv you too, Sammy."

June walked out on the tiny balcony attached to their room and looked up to the stars. "Brother dear, just what the hell were you up to?"


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for reading! It is taking way longer to get to Blue Earth than I thought it would.

Disclaimer: Characters are property of others. No profit being made, writing just for fun.

Chapter Eight

June woke to sunlight streaming in the window and hitting her directly in the face. Her watch said 6:45. She snuggled in the pull-out bed for a few seconds of peace and tranquility. Even though the day before had been full of surprises they managed to get to bed fairly early. Everyone slept through the night, evidence of how exhausted they truly were. If Dean had any bad dreams they didn't wake him. She reflected back on Phoebe Banks and the strange story of her husband's brain tumor. John being sent to her as a special 'investigator' seemed a little strange. She definitely couldn't wait to discuss these developments with Pastor Murphy. After all, he had said he too was involved in their unique 'organization'. What kind of organization sends unstable widowers to track down murders, with their little boys tagging along for the ride?

Finally deciding it was time to start her day June got up and stretched. All that sitting around the hospital and driving had left her body aching for some exercise. She opened the small patio door and stepped out on the balcony. June worked herself through a few stretching routines and a couple yoga positions. She breathed in the fresh country air and felt refreshed when she stepped back into the room. After going through her morning routine she put on some yellow bib overall shorts over a white tank top, twisted her hair into two short braids and slipped on some sandals. She felt like her old self again, ready to deal with another day.

June thought her rummaging around the room would wake the boys; she wasn't trying to be quiet. But Dean and Sammy were still sleeping soundly. She smiled as she watched them sleeping in a bed even Cinderella would find overdone. When she had tucked them in the night before they were two sweet little boys, fresh from the tub, well fed, snuggled together peacefully in sleep. Now they were spread out in the giant bed, arms and legs and satin sheets all over the place. If it weren't for Dean's cast and fading bruises the two of them would look like any two rough and tumble little boys, sacked out after a day of fun at a summer resort.

June wished again that she had a camera. One day, after the pain of the tragedy faded, this would make for a great family story. Instead she used a trick that Mary had taught her. June had been about fifteen, or thereabouts, and had gone to spend a week with John and Mary. John had told their parents that Mary needed some help around the house and taking care of Dean. Really it was an excuse to give June a little break from their mother's progressive illness and their father's progressive drinking. June complained she didn't have a camera and she really wanted to take some pictures of baby Dean. Mary had told her how your memory takes the best pictures; all you have to do is tell it to. She explained to June how you decide what you want your memory picture to be, see it with your eyes, then close your eyes and see it in your memory. Give it a name. Wait for about an hour and close your eyes and tell your memory to show you your memory picture. After that any time you wanted to see that memory it would be there, clear as a bell. All the more special because you were the only one who could see it and no one could ever take it away.

June remembered how she had stared hard to remember the image, closed her eyes tight and named her memory – my first picture of John and Dean. There it was, clear as a bell in her mind's eye. John, the new young father laying on the couch, sound asleep, with 10-month-old Dean laying on his tummy, arms around his daddy's middle, also sound asleep. They both had matching snores (June's memory pictures had sound too). So with closed eyes June whispered to herself, 'Dean and Sammy's first night out of the hospital'.

After she opened her eyes she realized that in the morning light some of Dean's bruises seemed to be fading, they were no longer brilliant in color but taking on the dullness and sickly yellow green tint of healing. She was hoping Pastor Murphy could direct her to a clinic after they arrived so his stitches could be pulled.

Her thoughts were interrupted for a soft knocking on the door. Sure enough, another round of food was waiting on the other side. This morning it was a pot of coffee, an ice filled bowl full of cartons of milk and juice, muffins, yogurt, fruit, an assortment of mini boxes of cereal and a strawberry pie. The maid was an absolute brick of a woman who not only firmly refused June's tip but she insisted on taking any clothes that needed to be laundered. Even as June protested the maid was plucking socks and jeans from the floor and tossing them into a laundry bag. Fine, June thought. If she wanted dirty laundry, there was a particularly stinky pair of jeans in her trunk that she would be more than happy to make someone else's problem.

When June returned to the room the boys were just starting to stir. Sammy sat up and with balled up fists rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Dean took a few deep breaths and rolled to his side, he got out of bed looking more like a 90-year-old man than a nine-year-old boy. He stood next to the bed and gave a giant yawn and careful stretch. In the middle of Dean's yawn June gave a cheerful "Good morning!" directed to both boys. Dean, who wasn't yet fully awake, gave an automatic "Mornin" before he was conscious of that he was doing. June just smiled slyly at the shocked look on his face and said nothing.

Sammy however picked upon Dean speaking again right away. "Morning Dean!" Sammy jumped on the frilly bed until his head nearly knocked into the canopy. "Wow! Did you sleep good? I slept good. I dreamed we went fishing with Daddy. It was a good dream. Did you dream good, Dean? I'm hungry. Are you hungry, Dean? My teeth feel fuzzy. Do you want to brush your teeth, Dean? I gotta pee first though." With that he jumped off the bed, landed with a thumb, ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.

June couldn't help but laugh. "Holy cow! I get tired just listening to him! And have you noticed how way too many of his conversations lately work in peeing? We really should have a talk with him about that."

Dean giggled. He had noticed his brother talking way too much about going to the bathroom. Dean knew Sammy was just chattering because he was scared and missing their dad, whatever thoughts came into his head fell out of his mouth. Dad always said the things that made Dean quiet were the same things that made Sammy loud. Dean was missing his dad too. He absentmindedly hugged his ribs and sighed.

June watched as Dean's expression flashed from amused to troubled in seconds. He looked so lost standing next to the bed in his pajamas, holding his broken ribs and taking deep breaths. She could tell he was trying to hold it together. Pulling her nephew into a gentle hug, she kissed the top of his head and feathered her fingers through his now clean dark blonde hair. "Dean, have I told you how proud I am of you?" Without lifting his head Dean looked up at his aunt. She could read in his face that he didn't believe how she could ever be proud of him. "You are the bravest boy I know." She lifted his chin with her fingers. "I know you are doing your best. You are helping your brother with all this and taking care of him." She dropped his chin and pulled his head to her shoulder. "I am just so proud that you want me to be a part of your family. I'll miss John forever, and I loved my brother, and Mary, but they gave me the two most precious gifts I could ever dream of…. you and your brother. Whatever happened in the past, whatever happens in the future, I will always love you, Dean. I will always love Sammy, too. We are a family now, we will get through this. Lets just take one day at a time, okay?"

Dean held tight to his aunt and let her words wash over him. He breathed deeply and tried to will away the tears he felt streaming down his face. He didn't think he would ever tire of hearing he was loved or that things were going to be okay. Soft words had been absent from his life for so long. Every time he heard those words he could feel the giant whole where his heart had been get a tiny bit smaller. Every time he felt June's touch or Sammy's snuggles it was like magic pulling the pieces of his heart back together.

He knew they had been a family together with his Dad, but something was always missing. That spark of light, that joy of being alive. That had been missing for a long time. His Dad had never been able to be truly happy after the fire. The rare times they would be laughing as a family would always end with Dad getting sad because Mom was gone. He remembered how excited he and his dad had been for Sammy's first steps. For a few seconds they laughed and were happy. But then his dad said "Mary should be here" in his sad voice and started drinking beer. The day had not ended well. That didn't happen with June. With June happy was happy. Sad was sad. She never made them feel bad for being happy. Dean wanted Sammy to know that feeling. He wanted that feeling back for himself. He looked at his aunt and realized she was wearing yellow overall shorts. He smiled.

June pulled back from the embrace and wiped the tears from Dean's face. He was now only sniffling. Dean looked up and smiled shyly, and then he wiped his nose on the back of his pajama sleeve. "Sorry I'm such a crybaby."

"Ha! You are a lot of things Dean Winchester, but a crybaby is not one of them."

Sammy came out of the bathroom ran right up to his brother, giving him a giant hug. From there he raced around the room while June tried to get to stop moving long enough to dress. "Can we have breakfast now, Dean? Don't you need to go point Percy at the porcelain? Are we staying another day? Yogurt, cool. Are you going to eat some yogurt, Dean? Strawberry pie! Are we going to eat pie for breakfast? Dean, you aren't going to puke again today are you? That was gross. Look, there is chocolate milk! Do you want some chocolate milk, Dean? Dean, you better go shake the dew from your lily so we can have some breakfast."

June nearly choked coffee out her nose at Sammy's bathroom references. Before she could speak again Dean ruffled Sammy's hair and laughed. "Take a breath already little dude." Dean grabbed his clothes and headed toward the bathroom. "After breakfast you and I need to have a little talk, man to man."

It didn't take long and there was another knock at the door. This time it was Phoebe Banks, checking in on her special guests. Phoebe had half expected the room to be empty, thinking maybe they had made a getaway during the night. "I was just wondering if everything was alright, if there was anything else you might be needing?" She asked when June opened the door.

June licked blueberry muffin from her lips, "Mrs. Banks, everything is wonderful, we can't thank you enough. I do wish you would let me pay for the room though."

"I wouldn't hear of it! That's part of the reason I'm here. I was hoping you would stay longer; I'll have a more appropriate room available today. We could have you moved over in a jiffy."

"There is very generous, but we really need to get back on the road. I would like to get an early start so we can get settled in Blue Earth before it gets dark." June took a sip of her coffee and offered some to Mrs. Banks. Phoebe was disappointed they weren't staying but accepted the offer of coffee and together the two women went to the patio to sit and visit.

"You two okay?" June asked before sliding the patio door shut. Both boys nodded, they were busy watching cartoons and nibbling breakfast goodies. Dean held her gaze for a couple extra seconds, and June noticed that he moved to be sure he could see her out on the patio.

"Did you rest well?" Phoebe finally asked.

"We all slept better than we have in days. After that wonderful supper you sent over we turned in."

"I'm glad. It is so wonderful to see Sammy and Dean again, they sure have grown. Sammy was barely more than a toddler the last time they were here. Those two were together constantly. I never saw an older brother like Dean, they way he took care of Sammy….well, it was something you remember."

June had the opening she had been hoping for. "So, you said John was working as some sort of undercover investigator? How did you find out about him?"

Drat, Phoebe thought, she should have stuck to talking about the weather. She knew she would trip herself up if she talked too much. 'Keep it short and sweet' was what John Winchester had told her that night. 'Be vague, say you don't remember, they will think you are in shock and won't push.' Well that was all fine and dandy when she was still standing over her husband's dead body. Now, two years later, she didn't have a luxury of pretending she was in shock. She tried to keep it short. "I didn't, my minister…he made some calls….that sort of thing."

The first thought that popped into June's head was 'vague much'? "But, didn't he have anyone with him to watch the boys? I mean, don't you think it is a little odd that you confide to your minister that your husband might be involved in these violent murders and a guy with two little boys shows up to investigate?"

"Well, maybe investigate isn't the right word. He was here more as a holiday with the boys, to keep an eye on things and ease my mind a little. I was happy to help keep an eye on the boys when John was helping out." Phoebe was getting nervous. That was too much. Why did she say he was there on a holiday?

"But that's not what you said yesterday."

Double drat, Phoebe thought. This girl is like a dog with a bone.

"Yesterday you said that John was pretending to be a handyman to keep an eye on your husband. I'm wondering who was keeping an eye on Dean and Sammy? I'm also concerned that my brother shot your husband. That means when he followed your husband that night he must have suspected something, he was armed, that he had loaded weapons around the. You said your husband killed with his bare hands and a psychotic rage. Why would John have had to shoot him? John was a big guy. He had the element of surprise. I don't care how jazzed up your husband was with his brain tumor, a 60-year-old man wouldn't stand much of a chance against John, he was a Special Forces marine. Then he helped you stage the scene to look like you shot him because he didn't want to be involved with the authorities because of the boys. Why would that matter? Speaking of the boys, where were the boys when this was happening? You said you helped to watch them, but you were in the woods that night. Did John just leave them alone? Dean would only have been seven, Sammy three!" June knew she was rambling, but the more she thought about the story the more holes she found in it. Saying everything out loud just made it sound that much more ridiculous.

Phoebe was wringing her hands together, she hadn't touched her coffee. For a brief second she considered blurting out "My husband turned into a werewolf and the only one who believed me was John. John had a gun with silver bullets and he killed him." But as quickly as she considered it she decided against it. Blurting things out hadn't gone well the day before. This girl certainly wouldn't believe such a thing and could potentially cause lots of problems for her. If only she had kept her mouth shut about the whole thing!

"June, your brother was a hero. He loved those boys, I know he did. Can't you just be satisfied to know that he saved my life? That he did what needed to be done?"

"Your husband, the 60-year-old guy with a brain tumor, _needed_ to be shot? Is that what you are saying?"

"He needed to be stopped. No one else could stop him." Phoebe sobbed. "Please, I can't talk about this anymore." She might not be able to blame it on shock but she could play the distraught old lady card.

June knew she wouldn't be getting anything else from Mrs. Banks. She didn't know if she really wanted to know the truth. No matter what the story was, someone ended up dead, and her brother had killed him. She certainly couldn't talk to Dean about this; the kid had enough to handle right now. "I didn't mean to upset you. We will be heading out as soon as we get packed up."

"If I could ask, what happened to Dean? How did John die?"

"Dean was abducted. Their father, who loved them, left the boys alone and a child molester took him. John tracked them down, it took several days, but he found them. John killed the man and ended up getting shot himself." June couldn't resist adding bitterly, "and neither one of them had a brain tumor."

Phoebe said nothing, really, what was there to say? Was the abductor a child molester or some other sort of monster? She had never considered the fact that John had put his children in harms way by bringing them to the resort before Walter was caught. If John knew there were such things out there in the dark how could he ever leave his little boys alone?

Phoebe walked through the room and said a sad goodbye to the boys, giving each a quick hug. Just as she was leaving the maid showed up with the freshly laundered clothes. June took the laundry and felt a twinge of guilt at being so rude to Mrs. Banks.

"Mrs. Banks?" June stopped the older woman as the maid breezed out of the room with the breakfast leftovers. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry for being rude, after all the wonderful things you did for us. I do appreciate it. But you have to understand, there is so much about what you told me that doesn't make sense. I plan on doing everything possible to take care of those two boys, to keep them safe. Understanding the life they had with their father helps me be prepared to deal with situations like this that will come up. Thank you for everything you did, thank you for telling me your…..story." June gave Phoebe a genuine smile and a little hug.

Phoebe felt better, maybe she hadn't messed things up too badly after all.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of others.

Chapter Nine:

June was glad to put the Four Pines Resort in her rear view mirror. Phoebe turned out to be a very nice woman, but the strange story and explanation filled her with unease. As she drove out the long gravel drive she glanced back at the boys who were waving goodbye to Phoebe. "Buckle up guys; we have a long drive ahead of us."

The sky to the northwest was darkening with storm clouds. June hoped she was driving away from the storm; she was heading south after all. Her old Toyota had nearly useless windshield wipers and balding tires. She mentally slapped herself for not taking better care of her vehicle. If she hit bad weather she would have to pull over and wait out the storm. It wasn't just her safety she had to be concerned about now. No way was she risking the safety of Dean and Sammy.

Dean was doing much better on the second day of travel. He had convinced June to let him skip the pain medication. He had wanted to stop all his medication but June held firm on the antibiotics. Dean finally agreed. June had to admit that he had a high pain threshold. He certainly wasn't like the second graders she had student taught in her last year of college. Those kids were definitely little drama queens. Any tiny scrape or scratch needed to be fussed over properly along with a brightly colored band-aid. June was pretty sure Dean could lose a finger and not complain about it, and he absolutely hated being fussed over when he had a scratch or a scrape.

June had been driving for a couple hours when she had a tap on her shoulder. Sammy had scooted forward on the seat and asked in a most serious tone "Auntie June, could we stop at the next rest stop please?"

"Sure kiddo, looks like the next rest stop is about 10 miles, can you wait that long?" She tried not to grin at his serious expression.

"Yes, I can wait." Sammy then sat back and whispered to his brother, "How was that?"

June was biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from grinning. She had heard part of Dean's talk with Sammy about not overdoing the potty talk. Sammy had hung on his big brother's every word eager to learn some of the secrets of how to be a big kid. Now that Dean was talking a little more regularly she could see Sammy relax. The poor little guy had been awfully scared when Dean wouldn't talk to him.

"That was just right, Sammy. Remember, girls don't like to hear a lot of talk about going to the bathroom." Dean pulled Sammy to his side for a hug. June was thankful that Dean was such a kind hearted big brother. Some older brothers would have been bothered or annoyed by such an active and talkative little brother. Not Dean, he had always treated Sammy like he was the most important person in the world. June couldn't remember Dean ever teasing Sammy to be cruel or embarrass him. The two boys were definitely something special. June just hoped she didn't somehow screw them up.

The rest area offered not only restroom facilities but a couple fast food restaurants, a gas station, a car wash and a historical marker commemorating some sort of pioneer accomplishment. After a quick bite to eat and a little walk around to stretch stiff muscles they were back in the car. Just as she thought, shortly after getting on the road Dean was sound sleep. Pain medication or not, his body was still recovering from a serious trauma and needed much more rest than average. Sammy didn't need that rest and soon was bored. June pulled over and made sure Dean was comfortable. She offered Sammy to ride shotgun while Dean was sleeping and he jumped at the chance.

The next hour was very informative. June learned that Pastor Jim lived in a brick house, rode a bicycle to his church and had a cat named Thor. Her subtle attempts at questioning the five-year-old about anything unusual regarding John's business or Pastor Jim were futile. The only nuggets of information were that Pastor Jim helped his dad to be better at his job. She also learned that one time when Uncle Bobby came to visit Pastor Jim, the pastor let Bobby draw on the floor and ceiling but he wouldn't let Sammy join in the fun. Sammy definitely held a grudge about that incident. Sounded like he had some pretty good ideas about what to draw on Pastor Jim's walls. When she asked what his daddy had been doing while Pastor Jim and Uncle Bobby were drawing on the walls, Sammy told her that daddy was practicing his funny talk. June had a hard time picturing her big brother 'practicing funny talk'.

After that Sammy's chatter veered off in different directions and June was content to just listen to the five-year-olds mind at work. She asked if he was looking forward to kindergarten and learned that Dean said he was going to really like kindergarten, Dean said he would be one of the smartest kids there, Dean said he would watch out for him, Dean said he was really good at tying his shoes and that was important in kindergarten, Dean said….Dean said….Dean said. While June was certainly proud of her oldest nephew for taking such care with his younger brother, she couldn't help but notice there were no references to anything John had done. According to Sammy it was Dean who taught him to tie his shoes, Dean who taught him to ride a bike and Dean who made sure he brushed his teeth at least twice a day. June had noticed those little things before when she watched the boys for short periods of time but it hadn't made the impression it made on her now. Another curious detail about John as a father that she was hoping to get some answers to.

Looking in her rearview mirror she saw that Dean had awakened and was checking out his surroundings. "Hey sleepyhead, feeling okay?"

"Yeah, sorry I fell asleep."

"You need your rest, bud. Don't be sorry for getting some sleep. Besides, Sammy was keeping me company."

"Auntie June, are we there yet?" Sammy asked.

"Well, I think we are getting pretty close. The last sign said Blue Earth, 46 miles, and that seemed like a long time ago."

Dean piped up with "It's only a few more miles. I can tell you where to go when we get to town."

"That would be great, looks like we might beat the storm after all."

Dean again looked out the window at the looming storm clouds that seemed to be gaining on them. He didn't care much for thunderstorms. They always seemed to come in the evenings when he and Sammy were alone. He made sure to be brave for Sammy when the lightning flashed and the thunder crashed, but inside he was just as scared as his baby brother. He remembered his last thunderstorm; it had been while he was with Johnson. The lightning and thunder wasn't the only thing that scared him during that storm. Johnson had been angry with him because he wouldn't do the bad things he wanted, because he talked back and refused to act afraid or cry. That had been when Johnson beat him the worst, during the storm. He had punched Dean in the face so hard he thought his eye would pop out. He had been kicked and poked with Johnson's nasty little knife. Dean didn't like thunderstorms at all.

"Dean, you okay?" His aunt's voice from the front seat snapped him out of his thoughts. He realized he must have zoned out for a few minutes. They were in Blue Earth and he didn't even realize it. He had missed the turn to Pastor Jim's house.

"Um, sorry. Guess I wasn't awake yet" he said sheepishly.

"No worries, kiddo. It's not like we are in a high traffic area." June pulled to the curb on what was the main street in town. The sign at the city limits said Population 3,621. June didn't know what she had been expecting but a town the size of Mayberry wasn't it. They were currently parked on the main street going through the town. It was early evening and most of the businesses were closed. Old brick buildings lined both sides of the street. The side streets were lined with large, old trees and turned immediately into residential areas. From where she was parked she spotted a bank, a barbershop, a small grocery store, the hardware store and a drugstore.

"If you go back two blocks and take a right at the water tower that will take us to Pastor Jim's church. His house is about a quarter mile past that on the way out of town."

Sammy nodded felt the need to add "I told her he lives in a brick house."

Dean reached over the seat with his good arm and ruffled his brother's hair. "That's right squirt. You be sure to point out his driveway."

June had to admit she had a few butterflies in her stomach. She took one more look around at the nearly deserted downtown area and headed to Pastor Jim's brick house.

Jim Murphy had been watching the storm roll in from the northwest. The weather had been hot and humid all week and the forecast was for severe storms throughout the evening. He had been doing paperwork most of the afternoon but found his thoughts drifting to the little Winchester family and wondering where they were. He had been tempted to have them followed by some hunter contacts when they left Michigan, but decided against it. Bobby had been furious with him, but Jim didn't want to risk discovery by June, he felt the need to base any relationship they might have on trust. He knew Dean had been discharged from the hospital and hoped they would be arriving soon. If they didn't show up in a week's time he would then track them down and see what happened. For now he trusted his instincts that June would keep her word and bring the boys to stay for a while.

The ringing of the phone interrupted his thoughts. Jim picked up the phone and before he was able to get out a hello he heard "Have they showed up yet? Because if they haven't I have two hunters ready to start tracking them down."

"Hello to you too Bobby." Jim said. "We have already talked about this. Twice today, as a matter of fact. We agreed to give her a full week and see what happens."

"I've changed my mind. She could have those kids anywhere in a week. They could be in Alaska, or Mexico! No, I think we need to move on this now."

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Bobby, Dean was only discharged yesterday. We agreed to give her a week. She might want to take it slow, rest up a little before heading in this direction. Give her some time."

"Have you been listening to the weather? You saw her car. With those storms that thing would be a death trap on the road. We should have had them followed just to be sure they were safe." Bobby had been having a nearly impossible time concentrating on his work. He had been pretty confident that leaving the boys with June had been the right thing to do when he was at the hospital. But now, a few days and several hundred miles later, he was doubting himself.

"I'm worried about them too, but I have faith that we made the right decision. I have a good feeling about that girl, Bobby. We have to take things slow and prove that we trust her. If she found out we were following her she would take those boys and never let us see them again."

It was Bobby's turn scrub his hand over his face and take a deep breath. "You're right. I know you're right. It's just that I miss those two little rug rats already. I'll never forgive if something else happens to those boys. They have had more heartache in their short lives than anyone should ever have to deal with."

Jim was distracted by the sound of thunder and turned to look toward the approaching storm. "I agree, Bobby, I agree. But as they say, 'that which does not kill us, makes us stronger.' Dean and Sammy are about the strongest souls I have ever encountered."

"Yeah, well I don't know how strong their souls are, that's your department. I would just be happy to know that they get to be little boys for a change. I'll try to make it until tomorrow before I check in again. You damn well better call me within seconds of them showing up, you hear me? I don't care if you are a man of the cloth or not, I'll kick your ass."

Jim Murphy chuckled as he looked out his window. "Looks like it's my lucky day then, old friend. At this very moment there is a crappy old Toyota making its way up my drive."

"Whoopee! I told you not to worry so much." With that Bobby hung up and Jim just shook his head.

June had been expecting a generic rambler for the Pastor's home. The old two story brick farmhouse in front of her was anything but generic. There was a large wrap-around porch at the front complete with wicker rockers and furniture. She could see a small barn around the back along with an old three stall garage that had sliding wood doors. If she looked to the west she could easily see the church steeple and town water tower, if she looked to the east the road continued into farmland and woods. Pastor Jim came down the steps and took June into a warm embrace. "I'm so pleased you are here. How was your trip?"

"Let's just say it was more than a little eventful." June replied. Even though she had many questions, now was not the time to bring them up. Everyone was tired from their journey and she had been watching Dean carefully, she was seeming to grow more agitated with the coming storm.

"Boys!" Jim held his arms wide to Sammy and Dean, who both stepped into his hug. "How are you two young gentlemen?" He asked while helping Sammy take bags from the trunk.

"We're good," Sammy replied, looking at his brother, "aren't we Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean said quietly looking at the ever darkening storm clouds, "we're good."

Jim gave Dean a huge smile and looked over to June with surprise. He hadn't been expecting to hear Dean talking. "My oh my Dean, it certainly is good to hear your voice."

Dean simply gave a shy shrug and stepped back over to June, who placed a protective arm around his shoulder. When there was a distant rumble of thunder June realized Dean was trembling. She decided against making an issue of it and instead gave him a quick squeeze. "It certainly is." She said.

"Let's get you all inside before the rain starts. Dean can show you where your rooms will be while Sammy and I bring in your bags."

June walked toward the house, still with her arm around Dean's shaking shoulders. When she was sure they were out of earshot from Sammy she asked "Dean, is something wrong?"

Dean gave his head the smallest of shakes. He could feel himself getting more and more frightened as the storm approached and he didn't know what to do. Every time he heard the thunder rumble in the distance he had to fight the urge to put his hands over his ears and cry. He had been feeling so good before he fell asleep in the car. He didn't understand what was happening. Instead he simply said to his aunt "Just tired I guess."

They stepped onto the porch just as the first raindrops started to fall. The inside of the house was just as quaint and country looking as the outside. June was certain a professional decorator couldn't have created something more lovely. There was a large woven rag rug in the entryway and she noticed lovely carvings in nearly all the woodwork. The open staircase leading to the second story was a masterpiece of craftsmanship. "Oh my, Pastor Jim you have a lovely home. It's like something out of a magazine."

"My wife had a flare for restoration." He said as June was tracing the intricate protection symbols etched into the woodwork gently with her finger. He noticed she kept looking up at the ceilings and wondered why. "This house had been in Isabelle's family for generations, she took great pride in maintaining its authenticity."

"Isabelle?"

"Yes, she was my wife. She passed…well, it has been 18 years already, cancer."

"I'm sorry," was all June could think to say.

"Thank you. Should would have been very pleased with your praise of the house. It was her pride and joy. We were hoping to raise a big family. Sometimes God has other plans."

They made their way to the second floor where Jim showed June the room Sammy and Dean stayed in at the farm. The room next door had been John's, but Jim had changed the bedspread and curtains when he returned from Michigan in anticipation of June arriving with the boys. With a couple pillows and a vase of fresh flowers, the room now had a little more feminine feel to it.

"Well, I'll let you get settled. Come on down to the kitchen in a few minutes and we will have some sandwiches, and you can fill me in about your trip." With that Jim turned and headed back downstairs.

June put her things on the bed and stepped into the room shared by the boys. There were two twin beds separated by a small nightstand. The dresser had a small framed picture of the boys with their father, a blue speckled piggy bank and miscellaneous little boy treasures. There was a cowboy lamp on the nightstand and outdoorsy prints framed over each bed. The plaid curtains rustled gently in the breeze from the approaching storm.

"This is my bed," Sammy said bouncing on the bed to the left, "that one is Dean's." Dean sat on his bed looking like a lost little boy and Sammy hopped off his own bed and sat next to his brother. "Dean, are you mad at me?"

"No Sammy, I'm not mad at you."

"Are you sad?"

June sat on the other side of Dean but said nothing. Dean shrugged, "I guess I'm a little sad," he said quietly.

"I'm a little sad too." Sammy said, mimicking the dejected look of his older brother. "Why are we sad?"

"Because we miss dad," was Dean's answer.

"Yeah," Sammy sniffed, "I do miss daddy. Auntie June, are we going to live here now?"

June looked at the two sad and lonely little boys next to her. "Do you want to live here?" She asked.

"You're not going to leave us here, are you?" Dean asked with an absolute panicked look on his face.

"No I'm not going to leave you here silly. We are a team, remember?" She reached around and hugged Sammy, squeezing Dean in the middle. "I was just wondering if you liked it here, if this is a happy place for you."

Sammy laid his head on Dean's shoulder. "I like it here. Do you like it here Deanie?"

Dean looked around the room, seeing the picture with their dad on the dresser. "It's different without dad, but I like it here. Are we going to live with Pastor Jim?"

"I think it is too early to decide. Right now we are going to stay with Pastor Jim and see what happens in the next few days. It's a big decision we all need to think about. Let's take a couple days off and you two can show me why like it here. Then we will decide. Deal?"

"Deal" the two boys said in unison.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of others.

Chapter Ten:

June and the boys settled at the huge wooden kitchen table for sandwiches and iced tea. Dean picked at his food and nearly jumped out of his seat every time the thunder clapped. Jim had the local radio station on to listen for any severe weather alerts. After a few attempts at small talk they gave up and listened to the storm. The wind was whipping the trees and rain was coming down in sheets. Sammy scooted next to Dean, who grabbed on to his little brother like a lifeline. June tried to find something to sidetrack attention from the storm, something to take Dean's mind off of things. "Pastor Jim, how did you meet my brother?"

Within seconds of June's question there was a loud crack of thunder and the power blinked on and off. June put her hand on Dean's leg, which was bouncing with nerves. Sammy had always hated storms and was sitting as close to his big brother as he could manage. Dean was holding Sammy's hand and breathing deeply, trying to stay calm. Another crack of thunder and the power blinked a couple times and then stayed off. When the lights went out Sammy buried his head into Dean's chest and started to cry. June was concerned that Dean seemed to be approaching a full blown panic attack himself; she could see him barely keeping it together. "It's okay boys, the power just went out because of the storm. Right Pastor Jim?" She said in her calmest voice.

Jim Murphy offered a silent thank you to the Almighty for diverting June from her question. He had promised himself he wouldn't tell the young woman lies. That didn't mean the truth had to be blurted out before she was ready. He needed to think for a few moments before he shared his story and wasn't sure how much he wanted to say in front of the boys. "The power goes out all the time in storms like this; I've got a lantern and some candles. Not to worry."

Sammy breaking down in tears seemed to be the catalyst Dean needed to ground himself, to set aside his own fears and comfort his brother. In dim candlelight June ushered both boys out of the kitchen and onto the sofa in the living room, Dean still comforting Sammy, June comforting them both. Jim brought the lantern in and set it on the coffee table, casting the room in a soft glow. "I think this storm is moving past us now," he said sitting down in his worn recliner, "but the forecast is for more during the night."

June realized now probably was not the best time to be talking about John or his involvement with Phoebe Banks. So instead she began to tell Jim the tale of their journey after leaving the hospital. She was quite animated and self deprecating in her storytelling and Jim found himself chuckling more than once. Jim was impressed that she told of Dean getting carsick by making it sound like it was her fault for not realizing that would be a side effect of his medication. When she got to the part about passing out at the resort is was Sammy, having started to listen more to her story and less to the storm, who added how he and Dean had come to her rescue. Even Dean, who found his fear lessening somewhat now that the storm had quieted, added details about the room they stayed in and all the food. June glossed over details about Phoebe Banks and her husband with the brain tumor, but she was pretty sure that she caught a look flash across the pastor's face that she couldn't be certain of.

By the time she was at the end of the story the electricity had returned and the storm moved on. Both Dean and Sammy were yawning and having a hard time keeping their eyes open. Jim suggested everyone turn in and helped June maneuver the two sleepy boys upstairs. While Jim had been pleased to hear Dean speaking again, he now remembered that the young boy was still recovering and had issues to work through. Jim had watched Dean carefully during the storm. A few weeks ago Dean would have been talking and distracting Sammy, who had always been afraid of thunderstorms. Tonight Dean had been nervous and fearful. June again had impressed him with her patience and loving attitude toward both boys, she seemed to naturally sense the best way to calm each.

It didn't take long to get the boys ready for bed. June tucked the light summer blankets around Sammy and planted a light kiss on his forehead. When she went to Dean's bed to tuck him in she saw he was watching her with a fearful look in his tired green eyes. She gently tucked the blankets around his trembling form and gently sat on the bed. "What's up, kiddo?" She asked while gently pushing his bangs back from his forehead.

Dean looked away and shrugged. He closed his eyes and tried to keep images of Dick Johnson from sneaking into his head. "Dean, do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?" He opened his eyes and looked at his aunt. "You don't have to do that," he said quietly.

"I know I don't have to, sweetie. I asked you if you wanted me to."

"You don't have to." He said again.

"Dean, I know I don't have to. I want to. I would like to be there for you if you need me. It is going to take some time to learn to be a family; all I ask is that you let me know what you need once in a while." Dean again closed his eyes and looked away. His dad would have told him to knock it off and be a man. He had nothing to be afraid of and needing his aunt to stay with him until he fell asleep was for babies.

"Okay," June said, "we'll do it the hard way. I'm planning on sitting here until you fall asleep. Because I think you need me to, because I think you want me to and because I think it is the right thing to do. It will make me happy. You and Sammy might be familiar with this place and feel safe here, but it is all new to me. I'll feel better knowing you are sleeping soundly and safe before I turn in." Gently taking Dean's face in her hands she looked into his eyes and said "So, help me out here kiddo, can I stay?"

"Yeah, you can stay if you want to." Dean tried for his normal bravado and instead just sounded like a scared little boy.

June just gave her nephew a small smile and a light kiss on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Dean. I'll be here if you need me." She watched as Dean's eyes drifted shut and his breathing evened out. She stayed for a while longer, watching both boys sleep and thinking about their future. June counted money in her head and thought of everything she needed for the boys before school started. She really needed to make a plan on where they were going to live. It was nice having a place to stay where Dean and Sammy felt safe, but she wasn't planning on living indefinitely with the pastor. Tomorrow she needed to check out the town, see if it was a place she could make a living, afford to live without depending on the kindness of others. After all, Winchester pride ran deep. June also wanted to see how the boys acted around Pastor Jim and anyone they might know in the town. She needed to see if they were happy here.

Dean finally seemed to be deeply asleep. Sammy had been snoozing before she had finished tucking him in to bed. As quietly as possible June got up from Dean's bed, being ever so careful to not disturb the sleeping child. She tiptoed down the hall to her own room, having every intention of turning in herself; it had been another long day. She noticed light coming from the main floor and decided to say goodnight to the pastor and again thank him for his hospitality. She really wasn't planning on asking any questions; at least that was what she told herself. She didn't want to start anything on the first day.

June found Pastor Jim was working in his den and watched him unnoticed, or so she thought, from the doorway. "You can come in if you would like." Jim looked up and smiled at her from his paperwork.

June slowly entered the den and made her way to one of the two comfortable leather chairs in front of the desk. She assumed he had talked to many a parish member in these chairs. "I don't want to interrupt your work." June noticed a photograph on the corner of the desk, "Is this Isabelle?" She picked up the photo of a lovely woman with long dark hair and a bright smile.

Jim casually closed the books and covered the documents he had been using for research. "Yes, you actually remind me of her."

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, nothing specific, you just seem to have that same spark of life. She loved children, you seem to have that same fierce maternal instinct." Jim smiled.

"You had children?"

"Ah, children." Jim paused and looked thoughtful, he took the framed photo from June and lovingly traced the lines of his wife's face. "We tried for years to have a family, but were never blessed with children of our own. Instead Isabelle ran a daycare center, spent her days raising the children of others, she loved every minute of it. After 15 years of trying to have a child we finally thought we succeeded. Isabelle thought she was pregnant, we were blissfully happy for the few days before the doctor appointment. Instead of a child growing inside her the doctor discovered a tumor. Six weeks later she was gone."

June felt herself on the verge of tears over the memory of a woman she had never met. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I really didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't be silly." Jim got up from his chair and walked around the desk, perching himself on the corner. "I could never be upset thinking about my Isabelle. It isn't pleasant to remember her death, but our life together was wonderful. I'm thankful for every second of it."

"Pastor Jim, how did you meet my brother?" June couldn't help it, she had to ask.

Jim got up from the desk and began a slow pace in front of the bay windows. "I had a friend who met up with John about four years ago. John was having a hard time of it, had gotten himself into some trouble. My friend sent him my way thinking I might be able to help him."

"Help him? Like with counseling?" June asked.

"Not exactly. John needed someone to believe him. Someone who didn't think he was crazy, who wasn't a threat to his children." Jim watched June's reaction carefully.

"Believe him? You mean believe his story about Mary being burned alive on the ceiling of Sammy's room? Are you telling me you believed his story?" June remembered her brother being nearly catatonic after Mary's death, being unable to care for the boys or himself, mumbling about Mary burning on the ceiling, bleeding on Sammy's crib.

"I believed John." Jim said carefully. "I believe things happen in this world that can't be explained. Some people live their lives with everything in neat little packages, everything in their life following a tidy plan. A plus B equals C in everything they do." Jim stopped his pacing and turned to June, speaking directly to her. "I believe sometimes A plus B equals 4. There are things that can't be explained, that do not follow a plan. There are mysteries in this world that some people are blind to, others seem attracted to. I believe John experienced something that he could not explain. I can't tell you what he saw, I only know it nearly drove him mad."

June was intrigued by the Pastor's speech. "How did you help him, there must be more to it than just believing him?"

"John was extremely paranoid when he arrived here. He saw monsters and evil around every corner. He believed everyone was trying to take his boys from him." Jim was worried that he wasn't getting his point across, he didn't want to make John sound like a crazy man. "I created a safe place for him here. He knew he wasn't in danger of losing the boys, he knew I believed that he saw something that could not be explained. He was able to relax a little, see things from a different perspective."

"Do you believe in monsters and evil?" June finally asked.

"I have seen things in my life that cannot be easily explained. Yes, I believe in evil. As for monsters, what about the man that kidnapped Dean? Wouldn't you classify him as a monster?"

"I might use that word to describe him, but he was still a man."

"He was a man, yes. But he was evil, was he not?" Jim asked.

"Yes, I would definitely say he was evil." June shuddered just thinking about the horrible man.

"June, I believe that evil isn't simply a description, like the word 'monster'. I believe evil is a tangible thing that manifests itself in many ways, shapes and forms. I try to save people from evil. That is the basis of the organization we belong to. Some people just need saving, they need someone to believe them. It is that simple. John found his purpose in trying to save others from the save evil that he experienced."

"Pastor Jim, 'simple' is not the word I would use to describe any of this." June rubbed her eyes, she was getting a headache. "So explain to me how Phoebe Banks needed saving or how evil was involved there. I saw your face when we were telling you about our trip, I suspect you know her."

Jim was impressed that June was remaining as calm as she was and had the presence of mind to throw Phoebe Banks at him as a curve ball. "I was the person who sent John to her." Jim decided it was pointless to deny it. "She witnessed her husband murder someone. Her loving husband, a mild mannered man by all accounts. She saw him rip a person apart with his bare hands. Did she mention that he actually ate parts of the bodies?" Jim could tell by the repulsed look on June's face that little detail had been left out. "Who would believe her if she told that story? She thought she was going crazy. She needed someone to believe her, to help her try and find the truth. What do you think would have happened to poor Phoebe if she went to the police?" Jim raised his voice an octave, imitating a woman's speech. "Honestly officer, I woke up and my husband was growling and snarling. Then he jumped out the window and ran off into the woods like a dog. When I caught up to him he was ripping a man apart and chewing on his innards." Jim finished off by placing his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes. In his normal voice he said, "How long do you think it would have taken them to lock her up and throw away the key?"

June took a deep breath. "But he would have been caught, he was sick after all."

Jim tuned and faced June again. "Yes, he would have been caught. But how many people would have died in the meantime? Phoebe most certainly would have been killed. The authorities were looking for a wild animal. They didn't believe the destruction they found could have been caused by a human. She needed someone to believe her, someone who believed and understood."

"But he had a brain tumor. You don't think brain tumors are evil, do you?" June asked sweetly.

"Of course not." Jim replied. "But something evil was happening there. We can debate the causes and medical diagnoses some other time. Something evil was happening, she needed someone to believe her and help her. That is what we do. We take things for face value and try to find a reason for bad things that are happening to good people. We try to save them from those bad things. What caused them isn't always important. What is important is saving lives, believing people, protecting families."

June sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She tried to take everything in. There was still so much that didn't make sense and she definitely felt that Pastor Jim wasn't giving her the full story. But it was a start. "How many people are involved in this 'organization' of yours?"

Jim considered that question, he really had no idea. "I honestly never counted. If I think about it I could probably come up with 20-30 or so hunters."

"Hunters?"

Jim silently cursed himself, he hadn't meant to use that term but it slipped out. He must be getting tired. He kept his features as neutral as possible and answered. "Yes, hunters. That is how we refer to ourselves. We hunt evil."

June finally asked, "My brother was a hunter?"

"Yes. John had the potential to be a great hunter. He was very passionate about helping people, saving lives. There are any people who owe their lives to your brother. You should be proud."

"I was always proud of my brother, even when I thought he was off his rocker." June thought of John's unusual behavior after he resurfaced with the boys. He no longer spoke of Mary burning on the ceiling, but he never really spoke much to June at all.

"Pastor Jim, what about the boys? If John was so passionate about saving people and helping families, how could he take the boys with him to places like Phoebe's resort, places where he suspected to find evil? Doesn't endangering the lives of his sons contradict everything you said?"

Now it was Jim's turn to remember John, the driven father who protected Dean and Sam to the point of neglect. "I can't deny that I was concerned about John taking the boys with him on some of his hunts. I would have much preferred that he leave the boys here or with Bobby while he was working. But I suspect you know how stubborn your brother could be. He did not take well to anyone questioning his ability to raise his sons."

"What about weapons? John shot Mr. Banks. Obviously he used weapons to fight this evil. What about Mr. Johnson, John shot him too. It seems more like my brother was some sort of mercenary than a crusader against evil."

"There is no denying we need to protect ourselves and that sometimes involves weapons. However, I guarantee you that John was not a mercenary. We are never contacted for money, that isn't a factor in deciding to help someone."

June waited for a few minutes before asking. "What about Dean and Sam? How much of this 'hunting' business do they know about?"

"Dean knows more than Sammy. John was trained Dean to protect Sammy at all times. Dean was involved more than I would have liked. Again, I did take issue with some of John's parenting decisions." Jim sat again behind his desk. "June, I don't think I can answer all your questions tonight. I'm trying to be honest with you."

"Oh, I believe you are being honest with me, Pastor Jim. That doesn't mean I believe what you are saying." June leaned back in her own chair and yawned. "But you're right, there are lots of questions that I don't think are going to get answered tonight. There is one last question that I do need answered though. Are we safe here? Are the boys safe here?" She locked eyes with the older man on the other side of the desk.

Jim leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with the woman before him. In a strong and firm voice he answered. "June, I make a promise to you before God and all things holy, you and the boys are safe here. I will do everything within my power to protect each of you from evil, monsters and the occasional goofy neighbor."

June smiled and rose from her chair. "Evil and monsters I can handle, Pastor Jim. Buy why did you have to go and scare me with goofy neighbors? I'll never get to sleep now."

Jim also got up and turned off the small lamp on his desk. Definitely time to call it a day. "June my dear, I couldn't agree with you more."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of others.

**Thanks so much to all of you who are following along with this story. You are awesome! I'm very sorry this chapter took a while, real life came knocking and I had to deal with it. As always, our opinions and comments are very valued and I am thankful for all of them. Please keep reading and reviewing! **

Chapter Eleven:

It wasn't quite 7:00 a.m. Sam stayed in his bed, snuggled under his blanket and watched his brother sleep. Yesterday had been a pretty good day. At least until the storm hit. Dean was almost his old self earlier in the day, talking and picking on him in the car. But then he got sad and scared in the evening. Sammy really missed the old Dean, the one who watched out for him and was always brave, or at least pretended to be. Dean had helped him during the storm last night, almost like before. Sammy figured that was a good sign. But he knew Dean had been scared too. Sammy had never really thought about Dean being scared before.

The more Sammy thought about it, the more he decided it wasn't very fair of him to think that Dean never got scared. Everybody got scared. He wondered what had happened to Dean during the four days he had been gone. No one would tell him anything besides 'a bad man took Dean'. Well he knew that, he was there when the bad man took Dean. The same bad man had slapped Sammy, threw him in the closet and locked the door.

Dean's owies were getting better. Sammy looked hard at his sleeping older brother. Yes, the owies were getting better. Some of the bruises were gone. The cast was still there on his wrist. He really wished Dean would tell him how he broke it. Did he fall? Sammy remembered last year when he fell through the steps of an old house they were staying at, he remembered the noise he heard when his ankle snapped. The noise scared him more than the pain in his ankle. Did Dean hear his wrist break? Sammy thought maybe when Dean wasn't so sad all the time he might ask.

Down the hall June was lying in bed having her own little sleep-in and thinking about the day ahead. She was excited about exploring the town and spending the day with the boys. Realizing it was useless to stay in bed any longer she got up and ready for the day. She peeked in the boy's room, expecting to see them both still asleep. The door made the tiniest squeak when she pushed it open and Sammy's head snapped around to see who was coming in. When he saw his aunt he smiled and gave her a little wave. "Shhh, Dean is still sleeping."

"I see that," June whispered, "are you getting up now?"

"No, I'm going to wait for Dean."

June smiled. Sammy was back in 'protector' mode. She was wondering how the events of last evening were going to affect him. "Okay. Don't wake him." She pretended to say sternly, shaking her finger at her little nephew.

Sammy gave his aunt a look of total disgust, as if she actually thought he would wake his big brother. He knew Dean needed his sleep so he could keep getting better. "I won't wake him!" he said louder than he should have.

"Too late." Came a sleepy voice from the other bed.

"Dean!" Sammy was out of his bed and bouncing on his brother's before Dean finished his yawn. "Did Auntie June wake you?"

"Yeah squirt, Auntie June woke me." Dean said, smiling at his little brother.

"Good morning, Dean." June pushed the door open all the way and walked over to Dean's bed, sitting on the edge. Sammy plopped down unceremoniously next to his brother. "How are you guys both feeling today? Sleep well?" She did her best to try not to focus on Dean, she had learned the best way to make him withdraw was by making him the center of attention.

"I slept like a rock." Sammy shared. Dean gave his usual shrug.

"Well I hope you both got a lot of rest. I'm looking forward to you showing me around town." June got up and headed to the door. "Now get yourselves up and dressed. I'll meet you in the kitchen and we will figure out some breakfast." With that she left the boys to themselves. She really wanted to stay and help them get up and ready but she knew from experience they were used to doing such things by themselves. It was one thing that Dean was used to doing, helping his brother get ready in the mornings, and he didn't appreciate anyone horning in on his job. June hoped giving them a little bit of their old normal routine would set the tone for the day.

Jim was pacing in his study, the phone in his hand, held about four inches from his ear, yet Bobby's comments were coming through crystal clear. "What do you mean you told her about hunters! I thought you were going to take things slow. I suppose you told her about demons and witches too!"

"Good Lord, Bobby. Give me a little credit." Jim's patience was wearing thin. They were all in new territory here and he was doing the best he could. He was hoping his friend would be a little more supportive. He had thought his conversation with June had been very successful. She hadn't run screaming from the room, had she?

"Well, what the heck did you tell her then?"

"I spoke in very general terms."

"General like unicorns and candy canes; or general like vampires and hex bags?"

Jim let out a frustrated huff of air. "What the hell does that mean?"

Bobby, apparently having succeeded in his goal of irritating his friend, gave a chuckle. "It means, ya old windbag, did you pretend like hunters help with evil things like shoplifters and counterfeiters; or did you fill her in on the darker side of life. Evil means bad things, and those things aren't human?"

"Okay, how about you make up your mind, Bobby. First you are mad because I told her about hunters. Now you think I should be telling her about evil creatures. Which is it? Take it slow or blurt out all the nasty stuff I know?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Bobby responded, "Well, are you going to answer my question?"

Now it was Jim's turn to chuckle. Bobby had made it very clear he was leaving the manner in which their business was revealed to June up to him. Obviously he was just trying to get a rise out of his friend.

"It was somewhere in the middle Bobby. I did my best to make it clear that the evil we deal with takes a variety of forms. She seemed open to possibilities and I definitely left room for more questions."

"Vague much?" Bobby asked.

"Do you want to do this?" Jim actually was raising his voice, something that rarely happened, "Because I would love to listen to you try and explain this life without making us sound like a bunch of nuts!"

"Not for all the silicone in the Playboy Mansion, Jimmy boy. I'm sure you are doing a bang up job of it. I have total confidence in you. Just try not to take yourself so friggin' serious all the time."

"Bobby, has anyone told you yet today that you are an ass?" Jim laughed.

"Whoohoo, a new record for me, 6:45 a.m. and I'm already an ass." Bobby's smile faded quickly as the subject turned more serious. "So, how are the boys?"

"It's hard to say, Bobby. Sammy seems to be doing as well as can be expected."

"And Dean?"

"You will be happy to know that he is talking a little."

"Really? That's good isn't it?" Bobby asked.

"I think it is a good sign. The storm was pretty tough on him though, poor guy nearly had a panic attack every time it thundered. Watching June with both Dean and Sammy during the storm….well, it just reinforced we made the right decision, Bobby. She was great. She managed to get them both to calm down and help her tell about traveling here. Sounds like they had quite the trip."

On the other end of the line Bobby Singer couldn't help but miss his honorary nephews. "You know what I don't understand?"

"Hmm?" Jim answered a little distracted, he heard footsteps on the stairs and looked out of his den to see June. She stopped at the bottom of the steps and sat down to put on her tennis shoes. Jim just shook his head and wished to by 30 years younger. June was wearing khaki shorts and a plaid, sleeveless cotton shirt. Her hair was held back by a headband and she had the merest hint of make-up. She was stunning in a completely genuine and innocent manner.

"….and then I lit the pigs on fire and ate their mother," Jim heard on the other end of the phone line.

"Bobby, what the hell?" Jim said quietly into his receiver while he gently closed the door to his study.

"I know when someone isn't listening to me, ya idjit. What the hell is going on there?"

"Nothing is going on, Bobby. I just noticed June coming down the stairs and wanted to close my study door." Jim mentally kicked himself for being distracted by the pretty young girl him his home. "You were saying you didn't understand something?"

On the other end of the line Bobby poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at his messy kitchen table. "I don't understand why John didn't let the boys spend more time with June. He trusted her. She seems to love those boys. Why did he drag them all over kingdom come and leave them alone in some of the dives they stayed in? How did he justify them being safe if they were alone for days when they could have been staying with their aunt? I just don't understand." Bobby couldn't hide the sadness and confusion in his voice.

"That was one of the mysteries of John Winchester. Do you have any idea how many times I begged him to let those two stay here when he went on a hunt? No, I don't think John really trusted anyone. I don't think he trusted me, you or his little sister. When his wife died he changed in a way most people will never understand." Jim decided not to say anything further. He knew Bobby had loved his wife every bit as much as John Winchester had loved his own. Yet somehow Bobby's heart had remained open to joy and life, John's heart had closed off to the happy things in life, even though he had two living, breathing pieces of his wife with him every day.

Bobby didn't need to say anything. He knew what his friend was thinking. "Well, I best get some work done. The real reason I called was to let you know I'll be backing up Carl on a hunt in northern Iowa, Buffalo Township. He thinks he has a black dog and wanted some help on research and execution. If things go well I'll stop by on Sunday."

Jim lifted his church calendar and made a notation on his 'personal' calendar, which he kept hidden underneath. He tried to keep track of hunts and locations. Their tight knit hunting community knew if they needed to find someone or needed help, Jim was the person to call. "I thought you didn't care much for Carl. I didn't think he was still hunting after that rawhead incident."

"That's the problem. If he stumbled on a real black dog, the idjit is going to need help. Carl can hardly load his gun without shooting himself in the foot. I'm anxious to see how he goes about his research and planning."

"Well, be careful old friend. I'll hope to see you on Sunday."

Breakfast passed quickly. It had to, there was barely any food in the house. June looked into the nearly empty refrigerator and decided to make grocery shopping one of her stops for the day. She was itching to do a little cooking anyway. The cupboards did not yield much more than the refrigerator. June knew they were unannounced guests in the pastor's home, but honestly, what did this guy eat? She finally found a box of instant oatmeal and a half of loaf of bread. The boys wandered into the kitchen just as she was stirring the oatmeal. June braced herself for grumbling about having oatmeal for breakfast. Instead the boys both just sat at the table and started eating. Thinking back June couldn't remember a time when either of the boys had complained about anything she had made them to eat. She had suspected in the past that they didn't always get regular meals. Just another thing she wished she could talk to her brother about, and possibly kick him in the rear-end over.

Just as June was rinsing out the breakfast dishes Jim entered the kitchen. "Sorry there were pretty slim pickings for breakfast, I haven't done my shopping yet this week." Jim took his shopping list from the refrigerator and noticed that several items had been added in handwriting not his own.

"I hope you don't mind," June said, "but I was thinking of making lasagna for supper and added some things to the shopping list. I would be happy to pick up all the groceries." Checking out the grocery store had been one of June's planned stops for the day, along with making a follow-up appointment for Dean, seeing what kind of elementary schools were in the area and checking out the local paper for the want ads and rentals. "I saw the small grocery store downtown when we drove through yesterday, is that the only one in town?"

"That would be Gustov's Grocery. The Heinrick family has run that store for as long as most anyone around here can remember. There has been talk of one of those chain supermarkets buying land on the edge of town, but my business will always be with Gustov's." Jim poured himself a cup of coffee and popped a piece of bread in the toaster. "I don't want you to feel obligated to cook while you are here. Normally I'm pretty capable." Jim had been known to put together a decent meal or two in his time.

"Auntie June's lasagna is Dean's favorite." Sammy finished his milk and wiped his arm across his mouth to rid himself of his milk mustache.

Jim looked at Dean who was shaking his head in agreement. "Is that so?" He asked.

Dean looked at his aunt and said "It is pretty good." They had been at his aunt's apartment earlier in the year during Sammy's birthday. It had rained all day so their plans of going to the park had been cancelled. Instead they stayed inside and helped her make lasagna with birthday cupcakes for dessert. They went to a matinee at the dollar movie theater and spent the evening playing simple card games. Sammy had gone to bed saying it was the best birthday ever. June didn't know it, but she had earned her place in Dean's heart that day.

Sammy hopped down from his place at the table and grabbed Dean by his good hand. "Come on Dean, let's go find Thor."

June looked up from the grocery list. "Thor?"

Sammy kept tugging on a reluctant Dean. "Yeah, I told you about Thor, he's Pastor Jim's cat. He lives in the shed out back. I hope he was okay last night during the storm. Dean….come…on…" Sammy was getting frustrated that his brother wasn't as anxious to look for the cat as he was. Part of Dean wanted to go find Thor, but the greater part of him didn't want to be away from June or Pastor Jim.

"Oh my, I forgot to tell you." Jim gave each of the boys a very serious look. Sam stopped tugging and both he and Dean looked at Pastor Jim, obviously expecting the worst. June felt her own stomach drop. "It seems Thor was keeping a secret from us. Let's head out back and I'll show you." Jim ushered his guests out the back door and was very careful to keep a serious look on his face. They crossed the yard and passed Jim's giant garden on their way to the rickety little barn at the back of the property. Stopping at the door to the barn Jim turned and looked at the boys. "Thor is in the barn. I don't want to frighten you, but Thor has changed. Don't be scared, I'll be here if you need me." June wondered what on earth he was talking about. Thor changed? Did this have something to do with their conversation from the evening before? June was just about to say something to the pastor when he looked at her and winked, with a look of complete mischief on his face he opened the door to the barn. As the door opened Dean stepped in front of his brother, shielding him from any danger. Sammy peaked around his big brother. Both boys stared into the barn as their eyes adjusted to the light. A large orange and white barn cat was sleeping on a pile of hay bales. The cat meowed and stretched, hopped off the hay bales and walked to the boys, rubbing first on Dean's legs and then winding around Sammy's. "Thor?" Sammy said.

June looked from the barn back to the pastor, who was obviously quite amused with himself. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and grinning from ear to ear. June stared back into the dim barn and noticed movement by the bales of hay. Four kittens came trotting out to find their mother. The kittens were round and fuzzy with their little tails sticking straight up into the hair. "Kittens!" Sammy and Dean both said at the same time. As the boys entered the barn the kittens scattered. Pastor Jim was nearly doubled over with laughter. June herself was laughing out loud. The boys scrambled to find the kittens who had taken refuge in the hay bales, spitting and hissing at the strange creatures trying to grab them.

"Seems all this time Thor was actually a Thorina, or Thoretta….I haven't decided which suits her more. Good thing you boys showed up to help me tame those little kittens. They will spit and hiss at you but they are too little to do any damage. Just be gentle when you catch them. It won't take long and they will be just as tame as their mother." Jim and June watched as Sammy and Dean played with kittens in the morning sun, both adults enjoying the genuine happiness of the two boys who were now the center of each of their lives.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of others.

**Please keep reading and reviewing! I would really like to know what you think. **

Chapter Twelve:

June and the boys were having a good day. Pastor Jim invited them to stop by his church for their annual rummage sale. He told June it was a good chance to meet some of the neighbors and he wasn't kidding. June couldn't believe all the people packed in the church basement. She could tell Dean was a little apprehensive about being around so many people. She could feel him tense up next to her and take deep, controlled breaths. Luckily it didn't take too long and he relaxed enough to take Sammy by the hand and check out a few of the tables that had interesting stuff for the two boys. June made sure to always be where Dean could see her and she did her best to pretend that she wasn't watching his every move.

Each of the boys had been given five dollars by Pastor Jim and told to find something fun for themselves. Sammy found a giant plastic tub filled with used interlocking building blocks. Dean found a handheld electronic game. Both boys were thrilled with their purchases and each had enough change left to buy one of cookies from the bake sale. June found herself a lavender sweater set, brand new, for only a dollar. She found a t-shirt that said 'cool cats' across the front and had a cartoon drawing of several cats. June decided that would be perfect for Sammy since she had to nearly drag him out of the barn and away from the kittens. For Dean she found a Minnesota Twins baseball jersey.

After bagging their purchases they went in search of Pastor Jim to let him know they were leaving. June found him deep in conversation with a middle aged man wearing a dress shirt and tie. Jim looked up and gestured June over to them. June, who already had been introduced to so many people, thought that this was perhaps someone associated with the church; he had that official look about him. She was prepared to be polite and make a hasty exit.

"June, I would like you to meet Roger Klinkhofer. Roger, this June Winchester." As June was shaking hands with the older man Jim continued, "Roger is the principal of Blue Earth Elementary, he was explaining they might have an opening for a long term substitute teacher."

"Yes," Mr. Klinkhofer said, "I was just telling Pastor Murphy that our second grade teacher, Miss Walsh, fell the other day and broke her hip. She is planning on coming back to the classroom but I'm not too optimistic about that, she is nearly 65 and had been talking retirement. There is a good chance this could turn into a full-time position. I would be most interested in seeing your resume."

"Well, I'm very sorry to hear your teacher broke her hip. It makes me feel a little guilty to be so thrilled that you have a teaching opening. I was already planning to stop at the elementary school to enroll the boys and see about subbing. Will someone be there this afternoon? I could drop off my resume and letters of recommendation then."

While June was discussing the possibility of a job with Mr. Klinkhofer, she didn't notice a boy about Dean's age walk up behind her nephew and give him a shove. "Well, if it isn't Lose-Chester back again. Doing your school shopping here? Maybe I can find some of my crappy old stuff for you to wear." Dean stumbled with the shove and turned to glare at the boy. "Get lost Cody."

"Hey Lose-Chester," Cody taunted while taking in Dean's fading bruises and broken wrist, "looks like somebody finally taught you a lesson. Or did your bum of a father finally kick your ass?"

Dean's face flushed red with anger. Sammy, deciding it was his job to protect his older brother, stepped between Dean and Cody. Dean put his shaking hand on his brother's arm and said through clenched teeth, "Let's get out of here Sammy."

Cody mocked him. "Yeah _Sammy_, listen to your loser brother," he said poking Dean on the side of his cracked ribs causing him to wince, "Get outta here before your daddy comes and kicks the crap outta you too." Dean's wince at being poked was not lost on Cody who took another jab at Dean's side, this time causing a hiss of pain.

Sammy shrugged away from his brother's touch and walked up to Cody. "Leave him alone!"

Cody laughed, "Make me, runt."

"Sammy, NO!" Dean yelled too late. Cody hardly had the words out of his mouth before Sammy punched him with a right cross to the nose and swept his legs out from under him. Cody landed on his back with a thud, tears and blood flowing freely.

The nearby adults, including June, Jim and Mr. Klinkhofer, turned to see what had happened. Dean had his arm around his little brother and was pulling him away from the older boy while Sammy was yelling "Take that, you big meanie!"

"What on earth!" June exclaimed as she knelt in front of her nephew and checked his face for bruises. "What happened?"

"That bully Cody said bad things about our daddy and was poking Dean and calling us names." Sammy was a little uncomfortable with all the grown-ups staring at him and he pushed himself further into Dean's side. This hero stuff wasn't as easy as Dean always made it look.

Mr. Klinkhofer was helping Cody up and wiping his bloody nose. June's anger was rising. She glared at Sammy who at least had the good sense to look a little embarrassed and guilty. Dean was trying his best not to grin but June could see the delight sparkling in his eyes. "Samuel Winchester, do you mean to tell me that you punched that boy in the face because he said things you didn't like?" She was standing now, with her hands on her hips and looked as angry as Sammy had ever seen his aunt. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Sammy's bottom lip started to tremble. In a voice sounding every bit like a five-year-old in trouble he said, "Cody poked Dean and called him names. I didn't want him to hurt Dean." June felt her anger fade away. Of course, Sammy was protecting Dean. He didn't want to see his big brother hurt anymore than he already was. Someone threatened his brother and little Sammy had wailed on him. She understood the look in Dean's eyes now, it was pride. Dean was pretty pleased with his little brother at this moment. Well that's just great, June thought. Sammy protects Dean, takes on a kid twice his own size and now she had to punish him for it. "Oh Sammy," June looked into his eyes and saw the tears threatening to fall, with a much softer voice she said, "I know you wanted to protect Dean, but it is never okay to hit someone because you don't like what they said. Sammy, you need to apologize to Cody. We will discuss this more later."

As June turned Sammy to face Cody she realized the other boy was standing in front of Mr. Klinkhofer. There was an undeniable resemblance and Mr. Klinkhofer had his hands protectively on Cody's shoulders. Please God, June thought silently to herself, please don't tell me that this kid is Mr. Klinkhofer's son! Well, I guess I can kiss that job goodbye. "Sammy, do you have something to say to Cody?" She prompted.

Sammy looked directly at Cody and loud enough for everyone to hear said "I'm sorry I hit you, and gave you a bloody nose and made you cry." He then looked up at his aunt with an 'are you happy now' look on his face.

Cody's response was to stick his tongue out and mumble "stupid loser."

This time it was June's face that turned red in anger. She really wanted to clobber that little brat herself. "Mr. Klinkhofer, I apologize for Sammy's behavior and can promise you that it will not happen again. I don't believe that hitting someone is ever the answer in an argument." She looked sternly at both her nephews. "However, I would appreciate it if you would discuss with Cody that sometimes unkind behavior and vicious words can be just as painful as punches." If she thought the boy's father was going to say something she was apparently mistaken. He simply stared at them and then told his son to go to the men's room and wash his face. She looked to Pastor Jim who was standing with his arms crossed and his hand covering his mouth. June guessed he was going for a thoughtful or concerned look. She knew better. He looked delighted with the scene that played out before him.

June and the boys left under the stares and mutterings of the rummage sale patrons and were at the car before she heard someone calling her name. After telling the boys to get in the car and buckle up she turned to see Mr. Klinkhofer jogging over to them. "Oh really, I said I was sorry!" Did he honestly think that she was going to stand there and let him rant and rave at her because her five-year-old nephew gave his bully of a son a bloody nose.

"Miss Winchester, please don't leave. I just wanted to let you know that I am still very interested in seeing you resume."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Hardly. Pastor Murphy explained that the boys' father was recently killed. You have my sympathies. I know Cody can occasionally be…well….difficult. His mother and I will be speaking to him about his behavior. I appreciate the way you stayed calm handled the situation." June was speechless, was he complimenting her?

"We don't get much new blood in town and even though we have had lots of applicants for teaching positions, they either are looking for a year or two of experience before they move away or they are related to someone already teaching or on the school board. I've never been a fan of nepotism and I'm anxious to find someone with a family who is looking to settle in the community." The principal stopped and looked anxiously at June.

Finally she was able to stammer, "I really don't know what to say. After the situation inside I didn't think…..well, I thought you wouldn't…."

"How about you just tell me you will still consider applying? There will be staff at the school this afternoon until 4:00 p.m. You can drop off your information and pick up the registration forms for Sam. Dean has already been registered in the past, we will just need updated information."

June managed to nod in agreement. "I will definitely stop by this afternoon. Thank you, Mr. Klinkhofer." With that they both went their separate ways.

Dean and Sammy were in bed shortly after dark. June tucked them both in and read a short story out of a classic children's story book that Pastor Jim had in their room. She gave them each a kiss and quietly slipped out of their room, thinking the boys were both drifting off to sleep.

Dean was comfortably groggy. June had made her lasagna for dinner. He and Sammy had both helped make the meal and clean up. Dean thought the only thing missing, to make the day perfect, was his dad.

"Dean, you sleeping?" Came a quiet whisper from the next bed.

"Not yet," he yawned.

"I was wondering, what are you going to name your kitten? I don't want to pick the same name." Sammy had spent every free minute during the day with the kittens.

Dean smiled, his little brother had always wanted a pet and begged endlessly for a puppy in the past, it seemed he would settle for a kitten instead. "I don't know yet Sammy. We need to know if they are girls or boys, we don't need another girl cat named Thor. We have plenty of time to name them. Remember, Pastor Jim said we could name them but he might not keep all of them. He said maybe we could pick one to keep."

Now it was Sammy's turn to yawn. "Yeah, we will have to pick our favorite and give him the perfect name. How about Chuckles? That could be a boy cat name or a girl cat name."

"Chuckles? I don't like that name."

"Why not?"

Dean thought for a minute, "Well, because cats don't chuckle, it doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, I suppose." Both boys were silent for a minute, Dean just about drifting off to sleep when Sammy whispered again. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you mad at me for hitting Cody?"

Dean propped himself up on his elbow and squinted in the darkness. "Mad? Why would I be mad? Sammy, you were awesome."

"Auntie June sure was mad though."

"Well……" Dean thought of the right answer for his little brother. "She is a grown-up, it is her job to be mad when kids get in a fight. What did she say to you while I was in the bathtub?" Dean knew his aunt and Sammy had a talk about what happened while he was getting ready for bed. He wasn't too pleased at being left out of the conversation.

"Well, she said pretty much the same stuff she said in the church basement. That it isn't okay to hit someone because they are being a jerk. She did say she was proud of me for sticking up for my big brother, but if something like that happens again I should get a grown up."

"Yeah, I guess," was Dean's reluctant reply. "You were still awesome."

"Thanks, Dean."

Dean smiled and snuggled back into his pillow, he was again nearly drifting off to sleep when yet again came a whisper from his brother.

"Dean?"

Stifling a giant yawn, Dean answered, "Sammy, I'm kind of tired."

"Oh…..I was just wondering if you were scared to go to school."

Dean propped himself up again. "Why do you ask that?"

"Well, you didn't seem very excited when we were there today."

"Sammy, you gotta remember I have gone to school there before. It's no big deal, I am going to be in the third grade ya know."

Sammy was lost in thought for a few seconds. They had gone to the school to register and for their aunt to drop off her paperwork. Cody's dad was there too and Auntie June had gone into a little room to talk to him while Dean and Sammy had to wait on a bench outside the door. When she came out she looked really happy.

"It would be cool if Auntie June got a job there, wouldn't it?" Sammy decided he would follow Dean's lead as to whether or not to be happy about their aunt teaching at their school.

"It would be…..okay I guess." Dean finally answered. He had been thinking a lot about that himself after their trip to the school. What it would be like to have his aunt at school every day, to have someone there for family days and class plays. He remembered the loneliness and embarrassment he felt always being the only one in his class without anyone in the audience or at the conferences. It made him feel good knowing Sammy would be spared those feelings.

"Yeah," Sammy slurred sleepily, "it would be okay."

" 'night Sammy."

" 'night Dean"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Thanks to all of you who waited patiently for this next chapter! I thought I had a handle on things but obviously I was wrong, I apologize for this taking so long! **

Chapter Thirteen:

Jim made the rounds of the house before going to bed. Like most people he made sure windows were closed, doors securely locked and lights off. Unlike most people he had a canister of salt with him to reinforce the salt lines hidden in grooves over all the doors and windows. He took the business of securing the house much more seriously now that he had the Winchesters staying with him. Jim thought back over the last few days and couldn't help but feel that his 'guests' were becoming more like the family he and Isabelle had dreamed of having.

His Isabelle would have loved June, they were so much alike. The boys…oh how she would have loved having those two boys as part of her family! Not for the first time Jim felt a tiny pain of loss at the children and grandchildren he missed having with his wonderful wife.

These last few days had been a glimpse into what that kind of family life could have been like. June had taken to cooking meals and doing laundry, generally taking on the housekeeping routine any family would have. Dean had slowly been improving, venturing away from his aunt for longer periods of time, playing out in the garden with his little brother and talking more than Jim had ever heard. Sammy was the bundle of energy he had always been, worshiping his big brother and chattering constantly.

Jim found himself looking forward to returning home after his daily church business was completed. He relished the home cooking and thoroughly enjoyed having family time at the dinner table, everyone discussing their day and plans for the next. Today had been their first Sunday together and June had brought the boys to services at his church. Jim hadn't expected the feeling of pride and thankfulness he experienced when the young family showed up to support him.

They had returned home to a real home cooked Sunday dinner and spent the afternoon relaxing in the late summer sunshine. Jim working in his garden, explaining to June the many herbs and plants he grew for their medicinal and protective properties. Dean and Sammy had played nearby with the kittens, working tirelessly on trying to find the perfect name for each one.

Jim was so lost in thought, he nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door. "Who on earth?" He mumbled to himself as he made his way to the front door, thinking most likely Bobby Singer had finally arrived.

Jim paused with his hand nearly on the doorknob, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He had been at the front window and had not noticed anyone pull in the driveway. He hadn't seen anyone come up the front steps. It was nearly 1:00 a.m., much too late for a random visitor and Bobby Singer normally let himself in the kitchen door, he had a key to Jim's house. His hunter instincts kicked into high gear and he stepped away from the door. Jim returned to his den, quickly pocketing his flask of holy water, a small journal and taking his handgun loaded with silver bullets from its hiding place in the false desk drawer and tucking it into his belt at the small of his back.

There was another, more insistent knock at the door. Jim turned on the outside light and peeked around the curtain, looking through the glass. A middle aged man wearing a trucker cap and vest stood on his porch. His face was dirty and bruised. He had one arm around the waist of an unconscious Bobby Singer with Bobby's other arm draped around the man's neck. Jim's first thought was concern for his friend, but he had been a hunter too long and knew that he needed to be careful, he didn't know this man and something felt 'off'.

"Yeah?" Jim said through the door.

"Bobby's hurt, he said you could help us." The mystery man replied.

Jim opened the door slightly, leaving the chain in place, "Who are you?" Jim calmly asked.

"M' names Carl. Singer was helping me on a hunt. Things went south. He said to get him here and you could help. Are you going to help or what?" It wasn't lost on the older hunter that 'Carl' didn't attempt to enter the house.

"What's the word?" Jim asked.

"Word?"

"Yes, the word. Bobby wouldn't tell you to come here without telling you our code word." Jim forced himself to breath evenly and maintain eye contact with the stranger on his porch.

Carl returned Jim's stare, a gradual grin spreading across his features. In the blink of an eye Carl released Bobby's arm held around his neck and pulled a sawed off shotgun from under his trucker vest. He pointed the gun at Bobby's drooping head. Carl's eyes were now coal black.

"I have some words for you, preacher man. How about you break that salt line and let me in before I blow your buddy away?"

Jim concentrated on his breathing, careful not to betray the fear that was spreading through him. Only because of his focus and years of experience was he able to notice the nearly imperceptible signal given him by Bobby. His friend wasn't as unconscious as he was pretending to be. Bobby obviously had no intention of letting some stinking demon blow his head off.

"You think you are the first low life demon to show up on my doorstep? Singer is a grown man, he got himself into this mess, and he can get himself out. There is nothing for you here."

"That's where you're wrong, preacher man. I was sent here on important business. Do you really think your little salt lines are going to keep me out?"

"They seem to be working pretty well so far. What is your important business?"

"Let's just say someone is interested in the welfare of your little houseguests."

Jim's blood ran cold but he kept his voice level. "So you're just a demon reporter, someone's low life messenger? You got the short end of the stick here pal. I've been sending shit faced demons like you back to hell for over 20 years."

The demon growled, "This is your last chance, let me in or Singer is history."

Bobby used the demon's frustration to his advantage and knocked the sawed off away from his head. Then, using the arm draped over the shoulder of the demon and his other hand he expertly twisted the demon's neck, breaking it with a sickening crack. Carl's body reflexes pulled the trigger of the sawed off, the gun went off blowing the top of the doorframe apart.

Amidst falling splinters of wood Bobby dove into the house. Jim was unable to close the door because of the blown apart frame. Bobby struggled to his feet and as he watched the demon possessing Carl manipulated the dead man's neck back into position. He turned to face the two hunters, his head not quite centered correctly on the body.

"Thanks guys, just the opening I was looking for." The demon smiled and attempted to walk through the door. Jim and Bobby both staggered back, wide-eyed. The demon stopped as though he had run into an invisible wall. Confused, he looked around and finally up to the porch ceiling. There, painted in pale yellow on the off white porch ceiling, was a perfect devil's trap.

Jim looked out at the frustrated demon. "You really didn't think I would put all my faith in salt lines, did you?"

The demon screamed and growled, threw himself around the circle of the devil's trap, trying to break free.

Bobby stood on his own shaking legs. He looked at Jim and smiled. "You aren't as rusty as you think you are, padre."

Jim took his Latin exorcism journal from his pocket. "Be that as it may, let's dispatch this demon before he wakes June."

"Oh…it is way too late for that." Both Bobby and Jim turned to see June standing on the bottom step.

"What on earth is going on here?"

Before either hunter could answer there was a gleeful cackle from the man on the front step. "My oh my, isn't this a pretty picture! You must be a Winchester, I can smell it from here. Learning the family business? Trying to pick up where your brother left off?" His tirade was cut off by a slash of holy water to his face. Steam rose from his skin and a howl rose from his throat as Jim started reading the exorcism. June was too stunned to speak. She looked to Bobby and realized he was dangerously pale and swaying on his feet, barely staying upright.

"Mr. Singer, you're hurt!" She helped the older man sit on the bottom landing. Jim continued to read.

"What is happening?" was all she could think to ask.

Bobby took June's hand and used what little strength he had to pull her next to him on the step. "That," he said pointing to the creature writhing in the doorway, flailing and contorting in ways no human could, "…is a demon. The man he is possessing was a hunter. An inexperienced hunter."

Just then Jim's voice rose with the end of the exorcism and the demon/man threw his head back and black smoke flew from his mouth and nose in a giant eruption. The smoke seemed to melt into the porch floorboards and the man crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Jim placed his small journal and flask of holy water back in his sweater. He took his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. Jim turned to his audience sitting on his stairway. Bobby looked like he was barely holding on, the adrenaline rush obviously having worn off. June was sitting with eyes as wide as saucers and her mouth hanging open, it would have been comical if it wasn't the sight of a lifeless body on his front porch holding her attention.

June's head was spinning, she really didn't have any idea what she had just witnessed. How could such a thing be possible? She looked up at Pastor Jim, a million question going through her mind, when suddenly she had only one thought.

"The boys!"

**Please review if you can – I would love to know what you think! It's a learning process here, I'm certainly not an experienced writer. Your thoughts and suggestions really are appreciated! **


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